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^ Mrs Roach's school — ^The children's winter clothes— They all visit 
\ the Queen — Miss Sandys — Miss Rumey and Miss Planta — 
N Discussions and discontent — ^New arrangements at Windsor — 
S^ Consultation on the King's state— A time of general anxiety 
^^ and wretchedness — Arrangements for the safety of the King's 
\ person — Return of the Duke of York from Hanover — ^The 
King gets rapidly worse — ^The pages in attendance — No fire in 
^the King's room — ^The King's journal — Mr. Papendiek under- 
takes to shave the King — Pitiahle condition of the Queen — 
Silence and gloom terrible — ^Public prayers throughout the 
land — Heartless conduct of the Prince of Wales — Injudicious 
conduct of the Lady Charlotte Finch — ^The Cabinet Ministers — 
The King talks continually — He aaks who called to inquire — 
Sad event on Christmas Day — Mr. Papendiek lifts his Majesty — 
Dr. Willis brought by Mr. Pitt to Windsor — He has hopes of a 
cure — ^All the physicians jealous of the new comer — Arrange- 
ments at Kew for the King's comfort — Privy Council to 
sanction the King's removal to Kew — Fortnum — The King is 
taken to Kew — Expresses pleasure at seeing a fire — Discre- 
pancies between Mrs. Papendiek's and Miss Bumey's account — 
A more hopeful feeling 




Madame Schwellenberg again — ^Political intrigaes — Pitt stands 
firm — Unusually severe winter — Remedies for chillblains — ^Mrs. 
JervoiB — Mrs. Stowe — Mrs. Roach — ^The baby fails in health 
— Mr. Meyer — ^The Forrests — ^The window for St. G^eo^ge*8 
Chapel — ^Mrs. Papendiek yisits her aunt at Kew — John Cramer 
and other composers — ^Mrs. Meyer — The Meyer fitmily — ^Return 
home to AVindsor — Dinners ; turtle, fish, meat, puddings, and 
beverages — Domestic arrangements — ^Knives and forks — Mr. 
Papendiek*s short visit — Distress from the intense cold — ^Peiv 
sonal sorrow for the King and Queen — Serious illness of little 
(George — Death of Mr. Meyer — Mrs. Willis — ^The Royal patient 
— ^The Regency Bill — Deputation to the Queen — Convalescence 
of the King — Lord Mulgrave's speech — ^Dr. Doran's review of 
the state of affidrs . • 82 


The King absolutely refuses to see the Queen — Some dajs later 
he agrees to see her — ' Queen Esther ' — The King walks with 
the Queen and the Princesses — ^Want of filial afiection of the 
Prince of Wales and the Duke of York — ^Thurlow — Mr. Papen* 
diek sends for his wife to Eew to attend the rejoicings — A 
prayer of thanksgiving — General illuminations — ^The Bank most 
splendid — Cort^e of the Queen and Princesses — The King 
receives the Queen on her return to Eew — ^He conducts her to 
the 8upper*room — ^Verses on the entrance gates — Dluminationa 
kept up for three nights — Mra. Zoffanj's house — Mrs. Roach — 
Frederick's sixpence — Baron Dillon — A subscription ball at 
Windsor — The King receives an address from the Lords and 
Commons — ^The Queen holds a drawing-room during March — 
Mrs. Papendiek goes to London— The proceeaon for the public 
thanksgiving — The King attends the service in St. Paul's Cathe- 
dral — A new dress introduced — ^Freeh difficulties about Dr. 
Willis's men—' Not full page '—The Royal Family return to 
Windsor — ^Mr. Papendiek returns to his home fatigued and 
disappointed • 62 




Concert at the Palace — ^Madame Mara — The organist for Windsor 
— Mr. Forrest — Picture by St. Mark — ^The Queen's present to 
Mrs. Tunstall — Ball and supper at Windsor — The Prince of 
Wales in a fume — ^The Duke of York and Colonel Lennox — 
Supper in St. George's Hall — The duel referred to by Dr. 
Doran — Entertainments given by the French and Spanish 
Ambassadors — Drawing-room on the King's birthday — Mr. 
Delavaux and Mr. Burgess— Death of Mr. Thrale— Mrs. Thrale 
marries Mr. Piozzi— Mrs. Parsloe and Mr. Sykes— Party at Dr. 
Aylward's — A great success — The Royal Family leave W^ind- 
sor for Lyndhuret — Ceremony on entering the Nevir Forest — 
Serious illness of Mr. Papendiek — Arrival at Weymouth — 
Their Majesties make several excursions — ^The bathing women 
— The Royal Family go to Saltram — Visit Plymouth — Return 
to Weymouth and Windsor — Theodore Smith — Charlotte has 
music lessons — ^Illness of Eliza — Frederick goes to school — 
Frederick's pin — Mr. Papendiek returns home — Looking much 
altered — Changes in the Royal attendants — The brothers 
Hawkins — Mrs. Papendiek visits the Queen — Mrs. Papendiek 
stays with her father in London, and then returns home . . 95 


Preparations for the winter — Memorial from the King's band — 
Nephews of Dr. Herschel — Ball at the Castle — Discomfiture 
of Mr. Kamus — Present from the King of Naples — King Ponia- 
towski — Mr. Papendiek accomplished in Polish music and 
dancing — Sir Thomas Lawrence — His youthful days — Portraits 
of Lady Oremome and others — Introduced to the Queen — 
Portrait of the Queen — Difficulties — Bridgetower — Mr. 
Jervois — Misunderstandings — Mr. Zofiany on his return from 
India — Mrs. Stowe and the Carbonels — Concerted music — Duet 
with Rodgers — Mrs. Papendiek's remark on seeing the Queen s 
picture — The Queen refuses to give Lawrence another sitting — 
Lawrence was not paid — The portrait sold after his death — 
Miss Folstone, afterwards Mrs. Mee — Her history — Pleasant 
little coterie — Lawrence takes Mrs. Papendiek 's portrait — 
Dinner at the Herschels — Unpleasant walk — Dr. Lind, Mrs. 

VOL. n. a 



Liud — Mrs. Delany — J^rincess Elizi^beth copies her drawings — 
Charlotte shows talent for music, Elizabeth for drawing — 
History of Dr. Thackaray — His death — The Queen assists Mrs. 
Thackaray — Mrs. Papendiek goes to town- Difficulties with 
Bridgetower 124 


Christmas party — Dr. Fryer — George Papendiek 's play — MisH 
Catley — Various marriages — Children's ball at Windsor — Kind- 
ness of the Princess Hoyal — Mr. Papendiek and the band — 
Mrs. Papendiek to town to ' make her courtesy ' — The Draw- 
ing-room very splendid — ^Footmen — Scholars of Christ's Hos- 
pital — Lawrence — Fuseli — Story of Lawrence and Fuseli — The 
Tuesday's stag-hunt — Frederick's precocity — Mr. Brown's ball — 
Son of the hairdresser Mori — Cousin Charlotte — Mrs. Siddons 
— Burning of the Opera House — Magnificence of the New 
Opera House — The stag-hunt at Windsor — ZofTany's portrait 
of Miss Farren — The Blagroves — Bridgetower and his son — 
Young Bridgetower and the Prince of Wales -Mrs. Siddons 
and her daughter 166 


Troubles in France — The new star, Dussek — His performance 
and appearance — The Bishop of London — The French Revo- 
lution — Graciousness of the Queen — Music masters for the 
Princesses — Clementi — The Queen's dislike to Louis Albert — 
Horn — Dr. Parsons — General Rooke — Mr. Albert breaks his 
arm — ^Planchd — ^Mr. Keate and Mr. Griffiths — Mr. Keate and 
the Queen — Mr. Keate and the Prince of Wales — Surgeon 
to the forces — ^Mrs. Papendiek goes to London — Meets Charles 
Papendiek — ^Visits I^awrence at his studio — Lawrence and Lord 
Derby — The Stowes leave Windsor — Gascoigne*s house in the 
Home Park — Mrs. Papendiek goes to London — Abbey concert 
— Excellent performance — The Royal Academy— Cecilia Zof- 
fany, afterwards Mrs. Thomas Horn Her sisters, Mrs. Beach- 
croft and Mrs. Oliver — Mrs. Papendiek, as usual, takes the 
children to the Queen and Princesses — Baron Dillon — Ball- 
room tickets— Prince Ferdinand of Wiirtemborg— The Stowe 
family — Charles Papendiek's outfit 18.'J 




Death of the Governor of the Round Tower — Mrs. Meyer and her 
sons — John Meyer — Charlotte's music — ^Their Majesties propose 
visiting Weymouth — Shavir House — ^The doctors and the King 
— Double carriages with cane bodies — ^The Princesses — The 
Princess Royal and her mother — The Papendiek girls constantly 
at the Lodge — John Meyer taken ill — Sixpenny schoolmistress 
— ^First ' Royal mail ' to Weymouth — Princess Amelia at 
Eastbourne — ^The King benefited by the sea air — Charlotte 
visits her grandmother — Dissolution of Parliament — Mr. Papen- 
diek becomes a * Denizen ' — ^The Queen's punctiliousness — ^Mr. 
Montagu — Mrs. Papendiek's last visit to Kensington — Dr. 
Majendie — ^Mrs. Trimmer — Mrs. Majendie — Domestic distur- 
bances — ^Terrific wind — Frightful storm at the end of November 
— The chimney falla — Great damage done generally — Frederick 
breeched — The joke falls flat — The Blagroves — Mrs. Meyer 
and her son — Rebecca, the artist — Amusing talent — Coloured 
sands — Hawes — Miss Miers, a violin player — Famous breakfast 
rolls — The Widow Hodgson — Death of notable personages . 211 


Evening entertainment given by Lady Charlotte Finch to the 
younger Princesses — Monetary difficulties — Frederick goes as 
a day scholar — George at last walks — ^Anatomical fever — John 
Meyer turns out badly — He dies on his way to India — ^Mrs. 
Blagrove and Mr. Papendiek — ^The servant Milly — Mrs. Papen- 
diek losing health — Mrs. Papendiek goes to London — ^The 
Royal Academy — ^Lawrence's picture — Artistes from Paris — 
Madame Krumpholtus — More Abbey concert-s — The Papendiek 
boys visit the King — David — Mrs. Roach and Miss Albert — 
Regret at leaving the house at Windsor — Miss Knissel — Mr. 
Cumberland — Miss Frederica Mackenthum — Dismissal of Miss 
Bumey — Violent storm — Sad death of Mrs. Pick — The Papen- 
dieks take a house in Dean's Yard — They settle down — Difficul- 
ties with Delavaux — The Queen's observations . . . 240 




Mrs. Deluc, Miss Jacobi, and Miss Winkelmann — Madame Schwel- 
lenberg makes difEculties — Palsa and Thurschmid — Luncli at 
the Herschels' and music — Quartett party — Description of Miss 
Winkelmann — House-warming — Nomination of the parish 
organist — Marriage of the Duke of York — The Duchess's 
household — Description of the Duchess — Invitation to Windsor 
for Christmas — Miss Tilderley — Considerable public anxiety — 
Incendiary fires — Wyatt — Riots in Birmingham— Deaths of 
notable personages — Soliloquy — Education — Female and house- 
hold duties — Close of the year 1791 — D^but of Princess Mary— 
Drawing-room dresses — Court days — Interesting ballets — 
Serious accident — The Haymarket Theatre — Great cold — 
Arrival of Haydn — Eliza's illness — Early history of Haydn — 
Tom Pmuo — Pernicious eifects of his works — The Bench of 
Bishops — The militia embodied — Dress — Games at cards — Salo- 
mon's concerts — Salomon's kindness — Arrangement of the 
performers — Reflections on the English public — Haydn's first 
public appearance — Great enthusiasm — Haydn's talent — Sedi- 
tious meetings at Windsor — ' Duty ' — Death of Mrs. Papendiek 2G7 


Further records of Mrs. Papendiek's life — Her appointments at the 
Court of Queen Charlotte as ' Assistant Keeper of the Ward- 
robe,' and Reader — Outline of the history of her daughter, Mrs. 
Oom, afterwards Mrs. Planta — Of Adolphus Kent Oom — Of 
Mrs. Papendiek's other children — Mr. George Arbuthnot — Mar- 
riage of the Prince of Wales — Birth of Princess Charlotte of 
Wales — Temporary unpopularity of the King — Marriage of the 
Princess Royal — Mr. Papendiek transferred to the Queen's own 
household — Character of Mr. Papendiek — His death — ^The 
King's health, mental and bodily — His failing sight, and subse- 
quent blindness — ^The regency established — The King's piety and 
resignation — The Queen — ^Her sad position — Death of Princess 
Charlotte of Wales — The Queen's declining health — Her suffer- 
ing — Her patience — Her death and burial — Mrs. Papendiek's 
affection for her Royal mistress — ^The remainder of her life 
passed in retirement — Her death 300 


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. II 





Mrs. Roach's school — ^The children's winter clothes — They all visit the 
Queen — Miss Sandys — Miss Barney and Miss Planta — Discussions 
and discontent — New arrangements at Windsor — Consultation on 
the King's state — A time of general anxiety and wretchedness — 
Arrangements for the safety of the King's person — Return of the 
Duke of York from Hanover — The King gets rapidly worse — ^The 
pages in attendance — No lire in the King's room — The King's journal 
— Mr. Papendiek undertakes to shave the King — Pitiable condition 
of the Queen — Silence and gloom terrible — Public prayers throughout 
the land — Heartless conduct of the Prince of Wales — ^Injudicious 
conduct of the Lady Charlotte Finch— The Cabinet Ministers — ^The 
King talks continually — He asks who called to inquire — Sad event 
on Christmas Day — ^Mr. Papendiek lifts his Majesty — Dr. Willis 
brought by Mr. Pitt to Windsor — ^He has hopes of a cure — All the 
physicians jealous of the new comer — Arrangements at Kew for the 
King's comfort — ^Privy Council to sanction the King's removal to 
Kew — ^Fortnum — The King is taken to Kew — Expresses pleasure at 
seeing a fire — Discrepancies between Mrs. Papendiek's and Miss 
Burney's account — A more hopeful feeling. 

It was now getting on in October, and the winter 
threatened to be severe. We had the pianoforte 
placed in the parlour, as a more convenient situation 
for the cold weather. 



Charlotte returned from a visit to Mrs. Roach's 
well and happy, and having fallen in with Theodore 
Smith, she had imbibed something like a little feehng 
for music. I continued paying to Mrs. Roach the 
yearly fee for one day scholar, four guineas, so I 
could send one or even two of the children, when 
fine or convenient to me, without difficulty. The 
reading and spelling continued either at home or at 
school as before, so there was Uttle or no interrup- 
tion in the plan. 

We now clothed the children for winter, and by 
contrivance got four blue greatcoats. Frederick's 
blue beaver was dyed black ; I got a quilted black hat 
for Georgey, and lined the girls' summer straws with 
the same colour as the coats, garter blue, and trimmed 
them with sarsnet ribbon without bows. I also pro- 
vided worsted stockings for the three elder children, 
chamois shoes for Charlotte, the only one of the four 
with chilblains, sealskin for Eliza, and Frederick's 
walking shoes, boots not then being known, kid for 
their best, and the house. For the three elder, dark 
cotton frocks, each two, and stuff petticoats of a 
material not glazed on either side, which prevented 
its creasing so much. Is. Id. a. yard ; long gloves tied 
over the elbows, with the fingers cut off* so that they 
were always on, and other Kttle etceteras. We went 
to the Lodge to show ourselves, and to make inquiries, 
wlien the Queen said, ' You always make out some- 


thing pretty. That colour is so becoming to those 
children, and their hats so neat/ The Princesses 
were affectionate, but all looked downhearted, and 
the gloom was perceptible generally. This year I 
finished my white cloak, fur, and muff, with a black 
bonnet, newly done up. 

Miss Sandys about this time represented to the 
Queen that the situation she had undertaken did not 
in the least suit her. She was losing her health, 
her spirits, and her power of improvement ; she had 
never been accustomed to live in one room, to sleep, 
to breakfast and tea, that room being also the ward- 
robe of the Queen ; and she could not stand the 
confinement. She represented that the head servants 
in noblemen's famihes met in the steward's room, 
and had some change and variety in their lives. 

The Queen answered that she thought the whole 
had been properly explained to her, but that she 
would inquire into it. 

This affair ought properly to have been discussed 
with Miss Burney, but the Queen never asked her 
advice, and in the absence of Madame Schwellenberg, 
she consulted Miss Planta, who, though she confirmed 
every word of Miss Sandys, saying that there was 
no exaggeration in her statement, agreed that any 
amendment was difficult. 

All male appointments in the Eoyal household 
were held by men of a rank that could not associate 

B 2 


with the dressers of the Queen and Princesses, and 
the dinner and supper-room being in the other wing, 
it would be inconvenient for them to be so far re- 
moved from call. These things were represented to 
Miss Sandys, but a great deal of trouble ensued about 
the arrangements of meals, the allowances, the treat- 
ment of those holding lower appointments, the ar- 
rangements necessary to be made for the maids and 
attendants of ladies visiting at the Lodge, and so 

This untoward business lowered these places once 
more. Miss Sandys was only * assistant dresser,' the 
others * dressers,' and to put the question of rank and 
equality on a better footing, the Queen desired that 
henceforth the title should be * wardrobe maids,' and 
an order was sent to the page of presence to have 
them so inserted in the Eed Book in November. 

The Queen now felt her error in having taken 
about her people of the class of servants, and found 
out too late the race of people she had to deal with. 
Poor Mackenthum was quite in despair, and seldom 
would join in the new arrangements. She, no doubt 
imperceptibly, drew Grieswell to her room constantly, 
which was not considered quite decorous. 

Miss Burney called upon me, as she promised she 
would do, but brought Miss Planta with her, who, she 
said, should relate all this disagreeable business to 
me, as she had been the principal mover in all the 


changes and new arrangements that had been made. 
Miss Burney added that the Queen had said that 
' slie would not keep her from her writing/ and so 
had sent for Miss Planta to assist her in settling the 
unpleasant affair. Miss Burney thought that the 
honour of the house ought to have been kept up, and 
that the waiting women should certainly have been 
provided for separate from the Royal attendants, for 
many reasons. She knew the world, and the Queen 
knew that her propositions would have been those of 
a lady who well understood the position of people of 
all ranks, and who possessed a mind liberal, magna- 
nimous, and totally devoid of prejudice. The Queen's 
judgment, combined with the amiable feelings of her 
dresser, might have laid down rules for the comfort 
and respect of every individual, to the honour of 
such an establishment, and for the happiness of those 
dependent on it. But now, alas ! there was much 
inconvenience, and many discussions, and a good deal 
of discontent had arisen. 

Miss Planta also told me that Sonardi had de- 
manded for the summer attendance 200/., but the 
Queen would not enter into any agreement with him 
further than by paying him at that rate for any 
time that her Majesty might require his assistance. 

Arrangements were now being made at the Lodge 
which surprised some and distressed others. 

The three rooms at the end of the long passage, 


looking over the Castle, and a small side room adjoin- 
ing the Royal house door and staircase down to the 
porter's room, were now fitted up as three bedrooms 
and a sitting-room. In one of them, Mrs. Theilcke, 
who had suddenly been sent for on November 1, was 
placed ; in another, Miss Goldsworthy, with her maid 
in the same room on a folding couch ; and in the 
third, my father. Madame Schwellenberg and her 
servants, six in number, were ordered down for the 
winter; and Lady Charlotte Finch was commanded 
to establish herself in her house in Sheet Street until 
further orders, to attend the school hours of the 
younger Princesses, and to dine with them in the 
absence of Miss Goldsworthy ; and other new 
arrangements among the attendants were made, 
showing that some urgent necessity was likely to 
arise for their being, so to speak, condensed^ and pre- 
pared for sudden or unexpected emergencies. 

The King's health for some time past had been a 
subject of great anxiety to all who saw him daily, 
and his condition both of body and mind had now 
become very critical. Every method and medicine 
that had been tried since the return from Chelten- 
ham had failed, and it became evident that something 
serious was to be expected. 

It was the great desire of the Queen and all those 
about his Majesty to keep these unhappy surmises 
from the public, and on this account he still showed 


himself on all State occasions, and even held a lev^ 
as late as the end of October.^ After this an attack 
of fever came on which was followed by delirium, 
but it was given out to the world that it was an 
attack of cold and spasm in the stomach, caused by 
his sitting in wet stockings. 

The King was, however, still able at times to 
drive out, but his Majesty upon these occasions often 
frightened the Princesses. Some days he was almost 
unmanageable, and at last became fretful upon every 
subject, and danger ensued. 

On November 3, 1788, assembled after dark in 
the room at the top of the staircase. Doctors Baker, 
Heberden, Reynolds, Warren, and Sir Lucas Pepys, 
who met in consultation upon the King's case. The 
Queen had consented to these secret deliberations 
with proper advice from high authorities ; the Cabi- 
net Council, Pitt, Grenville, Spencer, and Thurlow, 
sincerely hoping that a cure might be effected. 

' Stanhope, in his lAfe of Pitt, says of this event : ' On the 24th 
(October, 1788), however, the King made an effort hejond his strength 
in going to hold a lev^ at St. James's. He made that effort, as he 
wrote to Mr. Pitt, " to stop further lies and any fall of the stocks." But 
at the lev^ his manner and conversation were such as to cause the 
most painful uneasiness in several at least of those to whom he spoke. 
Mr. Pitt, in particular, could not entirely suppress his emotion when he 
attended the King in his closet after the lev^, which his Majesty ob- 
served and noticed with kindness in writing next day to his Minister 
from Kew. Probably conscious himself, at least in some degree, of 
his coming malady, he directed Mr. Pitt in the same letter not to 
allow any political papers to be sent to him before the next ensuing 


After this a time of wretchedness and anxiety 
ensued that almost amounted to despair. 

Mrs. Tunstall was commanded to keep every 
ro6m and apartment in Kew House aired and ready 
for occupation at a moment's notice, in case such 
a change should be deemed advisable ; and those 
of the household who resided at Kew during 
the summer, were to remain there until further 

The suite of rooms occupied by the Queen at 
Windsor consisted of six. Immediately opposite the 
entrance door was the music-room ; next to it that 
in which their Majesties met the evening company to 
cards ; then a boudoir, and close to it the Queen's 
study. To the right a large bedroom and the 
Queen's dressing-room, wliich opened upon the 
private staircase down to the King's apartments, and 
up to those of the Princesses. 

Over these six rooms nine were arranged : two 
for the Princess Royal, two for Princess Augusta, two 
for Miss Planta, one for Miss Sandys (the wardrobe), 
one for Miss Mackenthum, and the ninth for Madame 
Schwellenberg's two abigails. The opposite rooms, 
now cleared of visitors, were for the Princesses' 
meals, and General Goldsworthy, as head equerry, 
was now accommodated in the room at the end of 
the passage, two more were for Princess Elizabeth, 
and at the other end one for Major Price. 


Immediately under the Queen's rooms were those 
of the King, through all of which were communi- 
cating doors, besides one from each of the six rooms 
into the passage. Although of solid mahogany, the 
physicians feared the King's strength in a paroxysm 
might burst them, and they were secured. Other 
arrangements were made for the safety of the King's 
person, and we must hope for his comfort. Precau- 
tions were, no doubt, necessary and wise, but the 
necessity for them was very, very sad. 

One circumstance that certainly greatly disturbed 
and vexed the King, and it is feared brought forward 
his direful malady to a more violent crisis, was the 
return of the Duke of York from Hanover, without 
permission, and the unceasing endeavours of his 
Royal Highness to persuade the King to allow him 
to introduce into the Guards' bands the Turkish 
musical instruments, with the ornamental tails, cres- 
cents, &c. The Duke was ordered back, but did not 
go, and this conduct was naturally very irritating to 
his Majesty. 

The loss of the American Colonies just at this 
juncture also undoubtedly preyed upon the King's 
mind; but though these and other trying circum- 
stances might have brought his Majesty's unfortunate 
malady to a crisis, they could not have been the origi- 
nal cause of it, and there must have been some lurk- 
ing tendency to unsoundness of mind, undiscovered 


in his early life, notwithstanding his apparent healthi- 
ness and vigour of constitution.^ 

November 3, 1788, was Princess Sophia's eleventh 
birthday. On these occasions the Princesses always 
had some amusement as a hohday, and were more 
than usual among the family. This day they were 
all to dine together, for the King to see his children, 
but he took little notice of them or of any one. At 
dessert he fell into a heavy doze. 

Then all left him, and Dr. Baker entered. On 
waking up his Majesty inquired what it all meant ? 
They told him first that the Queen, who for some 
time had not been well, was worse, and that Dr. 
Baker had prevailed upon her Majesty to take rest. 
*Then,' said the King, 'let me see her.' They en- 
deavoured to persuade him that it was better not, 
but the mancBuvre was not successful, and the poor 
King became rapidly worse. 

The almost total loss of sleep from which his 

^ ' The constitution of George III. was by nature hardy and robust, 
but with a constant tendency to corpulence. To counteract this the 
King had from an early period adopted a system of abstemious diet and 
of active exercise. While his meeds were of the simplest and plainest 
kind, the equerries in attendance upon him might often complain of the 
great distances which he rode in hunting, or of his walks of three hours 
before breakfast. That system carried to excess, combined with never- 
failing and anxious attention to affairs of State, was the cause of the 
mental malady in 1788. Such at least was the opinion of the case ex- 
pressed by Dr. Willis, the ablest by far of his physicians, when examined 
by the Ck>mmittees of the House of Lords and House of Commons.' 
(From Stanhope's lAfe of FUt) 


Majesty had been suffering of late was of very serious 
import, both as a cause and effect of his rapid in- 
crease of illness. He was aware of the evil attending 
this sleeplessness, and bewailed it in the most pitiful 

[Upon this subject Dr. Doran says : — * Previous to 
the first night of the King's delirium he conducted, 
as he had always been accustomed to do, the Queen 
to her dressing-room, and there, a hundred times 
over, requested her not to disturb him if she should 
find him asleep. The urgent repetition showed a 
mind nearly overthrown, but the King calmly and 
affectionately remarked that he needed not physicians, 
for the Queen was the best physician he could have. 
" She is my best friend," said he. " Where could I 
find a better? "'—Ed.] 

Through that night, and for several successive 
days, the physicians in turn never left him ; and of 
the pages and footmen, some were always in atten- 
dance, and were to relieve each other as they found 
they could best manage it. 

To assist old Matthews and Cox, pages' men, the 
Queen ordered two others over from Kew. The 
pages in attendance were six : Kamus, Ernst, Stilling- 
fleet. Chamberlain, Compton, and Papendiek, with 
Grieswell as a helper. Two small bedsteads were 
placed in the dessert-room for two only at a time to 
take natural rest, and so intensely cold was the 


winter, that, there being no fire allowed in the room 
where the King slept, no one could remain there for 
more than half an hour at a time. 

Four times a day provisions were put upon the 
table in the pages' room, to which they came as they 
could, by the communication through the Koyal 
Family's former dining-room ; and from the pantry, 
a few steps away, any beverage, hot or cold, could 
be procured at any moment, night or day. 

The King was allowed pens, ink, and paper, and 
wrote down, as a sort of journal, every occurrence 
that took place, and every conversation, as correctly 
as could be. 

Twice only was the King shaved between Novem- 
ber and some time in January. My father, though 
' principal barber,' the title of his 300/. a year place, 
was too nervous to undertake it. Mr. Papendiek, 
however, was ready. He begged the Queen to have 
Palmer, the razor-maker, down, that there might be 
no flaw or hitch in the instruments, and the razor 
well sharpened. This was done, and Mr. Papendiek 
succeeded in clearing the two cheeks at one sitting, 
which, with the King's talking in between, was nearly 
a two hours' job. The Queen, out of sight of the 
King, sat patiently to see it done, which was achieved 
without one drop of blood. 

Everybody compUmented the poor barber, who 
in a few days cleared the mouth and throat, by 


liitting upon a pleasant conversation to amuse his 
Majesty while the operation was proceeded with, and 
this was repeated after a few weeks' interval. 

The condition of the Queen was pitiable in the 
extreme. The first few days of her terrible grief 
she passed almost entirely with her hands and arms 
stretched across a table before her, with her head 
resting upon them, and she took nothing to eat or drink 
except once or twice a little barley water. Madame 
Schwellenberg, who attended the noon dressing, and 
sometimes the evening retirements, now endeavoured 
to rouse her Majesty from her position of grief, and at 
last succeeded in persuading her to retire to rest, but 
Miss Goldsworthy spent nearly the entire night in 
reading to her. The Queen had removed her 
sleeping apartment to one nearer that of the King, 
but it was not thought right to allow her to see him. 

The King was told that she was ill and not able 
to come to his room, which in some measure pacified 
him, but one night, I think it was the 5th or 6th, his 
Majesty got up, and with a candle in his hand, went 
to the Queen's room to ascertain with his own eyes 
that she was still in the house. He spoke to her 
with the greatest affection, and this night's event, 
though it greatly terrified the Queen, had a more 
soothing effect upon the King than anything that had 
as yet been tried. 

It seemed cruel to him, nay to both of them, 


that this gratification of meeting could not have been 
granted. I suppose it was right. I do not under- 
stand, and can only judge from my own feelings. 

Mr. Papendiek told me afterwards that the 
silence and gloom within the walls of the Lodge was 
something terrible. Anxiety and sorrow was depicted 
upon every countenance, not only for the condition 
of the beloved King, but in sympathy with the poor 
Queen, who was so utterly wretched and yet so 
patient and so resigned to the will of God. Her 
Majesty was never left alone, night or day, and in 
the morning the earliest intelligence of how the night 
had been passed, was brought to her. 

The King's condition was sometimes better and 
sometimes worse, and the physicians were not unani- 
mous in their opinion, either as regarded the possi- 
bility of his ultimate recovery, or in the present 
treatment of the patient, except in one thing, that 
perfect quiet must be maintained. 

Every precaution was taken to preserve this state 
of quiet. No bells were rung, and all arrangements 
were made among the attendants that the necessary 
changes should take place at stated hours without 
any bustle or confusion. The park gates were 
locked, and no stranger was permitted to enter. An- 
other equerry was ordered down. General Manners, 
as being the next in seniority. Three gentlemen 
porters were added at the Eoyal entrance-gate, 


and four sergeant porters at the gate in the Home 
Park, and an additional number of kitchen boys 
was ordered down from London to fetch everything 
from these gates. 

On Sunday, November 16, a public prayer was 
put up in all churches throughout the land, for the 
King's recovery. The special prayer was very 
touching, and the whole congregation in the Koyal 
Chapel joined in most devoutly. Indeed the service 
throughout was very affecting, and many were the 
tears shed upon this occasion. The dear old Bishop 
of Worcester came, and saw the Queen, the interview 
being very short, as it was too affecting and trying 
to them both, though her Majesty was much gratified 
by his visit. 

The conduct of the Prince of Wales was, during 
tins season of affliction, very heartless. He came 
constantly to the Lodge and assumed to himself a 
power that had not yet been legally given to him, 
without any consideration or regard for his mother's 
feelings. At first the Queen could not make up her 
mind to see him, but the second time he requested 
an audience (or I might more correctly say demanded 
one, so excited and vehement was his Royal Highness), 
he was admitted to her presence. 

When he began to enter upon political conver- 
sation, her Majesty said that the equerries and Miss 
Goldsworthy must be called to answer the Prince, 


who, after being most severe, and knocking his stick 
several times upon the floor, while condemning the 
whole of what had been done, bowed and retired 
without kissing the Queen's hand according to the 
usual custom. 

All felt for her under this cruel treatment, out 
it had the effect of rousing the poor Queen and she 
soon after began to take the air in plain carriages. 
General permission was given to walk m the gardens, 
but no one was suffered to leave the premises or join 
their friends. The Queen was already much changed ; 
her hair quite grey, and her spirits sadly depressed 
The Princesses were, however, now sometimes sent 
for, and also occasionally visited the Queen of an 
evening. , 

Her Majesty also visited the younger Princesses 
at the Lower Lodge, and was not altogether pleased 
to find that the three Miss Fieldings had often been 
introduced by Lady Charlotte Finch in the evenings 
to amuse their Eoyal Highnesses, particularly as no 
permission had been even hinted at. The King did 
not like Captain Fielding, and had told Lady Char- 
lotte Finch, at the time of his marriage with her 
daughter, that he was of too inactive a character to 
rise above the rank of Commodore, and that he was 
not likely to be often called upon for active service. 
As I have before mentioned, Mrs. Fielding was 
appointed bedchamber-woman to the Queen, so their 


Majesties felt that they had done all that could be 
reasonably expected of them. 

The appointment was worth 300/. a year, and 
the perquisites, a share of the Court clothes &c., 
amounted to about 200L more. This was a recognised 
fact, which is proved by the circumstance that during 
the war, when an embargo was laid upon the impor- 
tation of foreign lace, the loss was made up to the 
six bedchamber-women, by an allowance of lOOZ. a 
year each. 

It was injudicious of the lady governess to act 
at this critical moment in such a manner as to draw 
observation, and it ended in these girls being less 
taken up by Royalty than might otherwise have been 
the case. The eldest was handsome and clever, and 
married, at the age of sixteen. Lord Robert Fitz- 
gerald, brother to Lord Edward, who, as ringleader 
of the rebels in Ireland, was taken prisoner and died 
of his wounds. He was married to the renowned 
Pamela, daughter of Madame de Genlis. The second 
Miss Fielding was also very pretty, and one of the 
greatest coquettes, then the term (now I think it is 
called flirts) in fashionable circles. She never 
married, but the third, Augusta, of a fine figure but 
not handsome, married Captain Hicks of the Guards, 
a son of the King's laundress. 

In the same quiet manner did the Queen and 
Princesses continue to go on while at Windsor. She 



saw the physicians daily, and with them planned the 
bulletin that was issued every morning. This was 
eagerly read by all his Majesty's subjects, and the 
affection and loyalty of the pubhc was so great, that 
the excitement, when the news was less good, reached 
a pitch of agitation that was almost dangerous. 
Upon one occasion the carriage of Dr. Baker was 
stopped as he drove along the streets, and upon his 
saying, in answer to their eager inquiries as to the 
health of the King, that he had only a bad report 
to give, the mob cried out, 'The more shame to 

The Cabinet Ministers now came down to Windsor 
to consult what was further to be done, as certainly 
no improvement had taken place. It was suggested 
that a fresh opinion should be taken, and the Queen 
had no objection to Dr. Monro being called in ; but 
it was her opinion that any physician who made that 
malady his spidaliU^ and who might be recom- 
mended to attend the King, should remain constantly 
with his Majesty, even after recovery, should that be 
the result, and felt that it would not be right to 
deprive the public of the services of so favourite a 
physician. It was decided therefore to call in Dr. 
Addington, an old man, but one who had had great 
experience in the malady from which our loved 
King was suffering. 

He had a consultation with the other medical 


men already in attendance. They listened to his 
Majesty's talk from the side room, to see if they 
could gain a clue to any subject that might be 
especially worrying the King's mind. He talked 
incessantly, till his poor voice was quite hoarse and 
painful to listen to, but there was not much to be 
gathered from his conversation. He spoke of the 
general conduct of the Prince of Wales, fearing 
that his brothers, with the exception of Adolphus, 
were following him ; of his little Octavius who had 
been his companion, his comfort, his delight ; adding 
that the Almighty had taken him. He hoped and 
thought he was resigned to His will, but he must be 
very sinful to be so sorely chastened ; and then the 
tears rolled down his cheeks in a manner pitiful to 

His Majesty used to inquire who called, and on 
wishing to be told if Lord North had ever been, was 
answered in the affirmative. Then the King said, 
' He might have recollected me sooner. However, 
he, poor fellow, has lost his sight, and I my mind. 
Yet we meant well to the Americans ; just to punish 
them with a few bloody noses, and then make bows 
for the mutual happiness of the two countries. But 
want of principle got into the army, want of energy 
and skill in the First Lord of the Admiralty (the Earl 
of Sandwich), and want of unanimity at home. We 



lost America. Tell him not to call again ; I shall 
never see him/ 

The King also inquired if Lord Howard had 
ridden down on his little white charger to inquire, 
and added, ' Tell him not to trouble himself. I know 
he is not sincere ; he was angry at my not giving 
consent to his marrying Lady Effingham. I knew his 
family would not treat her or her daughter well, and 
I thought there was a mutual affection between her 
and the Queen, so we did not want to part with her. 
The 500/. I allowed her annually I have secured to 
her, but the house at Kew I have taken away, as 
she has one in the country.' 

These and many other conversations his Majesty 
wrote down in the journal which he kept. One par- 
ticularly, where he fell into a quarrel with Comptou, 
who, though a just man, was a thorough John Bull, 
and despised EoyaJty, a Court, and foreigners. He 
told the King that his father had been a man devoid 
of principle; that many people round about the 
country had been totally ruined, some even having 
committed suicide, from the Prince of Wales not 
having paid his debts, nor his father, George IL, for 
him. Petitions presented to the Princess Dowager 
were totally disregarded. The house at the top of 
the Long Walk had been given to the Duke of Cum- 
berland, the King's brother, upon the same want of 
principle, and debts incurred without a hope of pay- 


merit. All this, the King observed, was rather too 
much to tell a Sovereign, although it might be and 
no doubt was true. Poor man, he never forgot it, 
nor could he ever bear the sight of Compton. 

A pitiable and painful event occurred on Christ- 
mas Day. The King found out that it was the 25th, 
and asked why he had not been told that the Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury had arrived to administer the 
sacrament to him. No particular answer was given, 
when, upon his becoming impatient, his Majesty was 
reminded that all those things rested with the doctors, 
as well as all others of moment, and that they, the 
pages, were acting solely by their orders. The fever 
ran high, yet the King appeared calm, and tasted his 
dinner but could not eat. Suddenly, in an instant 
he got under the sofa, saying that as on that day 
everything had been denied him, he would there 
converse with his Saviour, and no one could interrupt 

How touching, and how truly sad ! 

When he was a little calmer, Mr. Papendiek got 
under to him, having previously given orders to the 
attendants that the sofa should be lifted straight up 
from over them. He remained a moment lying with 
his Majesty, then by pure strength lifted him in his 
arms and laid him on his couch, where in a short 
time he fell asleep. 

Mr. Papendiek felt the eflTects of this great 


exertion for some time after, but was pleased to 
think he had succeeded in placing the King in 
safety without doing him any hurt. This occurrence 
was mentioned in his Majesty's diary, with the re- 
mark appended that Papendiek had only twice 
offended him, and that he forgave him. 

Now Dr. Willis appeared upon the scene. How 
he was found out I do not know, but I believe he 
was introduced by Dr. Warren. He was a clergy- 
man, and held a hving in the eastern suburbs of 
London, where he had been of incalculable service to 
his parishioners in the cure of their bodies as well as 
their souls. It was the custom in those days for 
many who were bred divines to add the study of 
other sciences for the benefit of their fellow creatures, 
and it is evident that Dr. Willis had made this 
branch of medicine his special study, and had been 
most successful in his cures of the direful malady of 
insanity. His eldest and youngest sons were regu- 
larly brought up to the profession, while his second 
son became a clergyman, and acted as chaplain to 
the institution which had some time before been 
established by Dr. Willis in Lincolnshire, where he 
had a commodious house and extensive grounds for 
the reception of gentlemen mentally afflicted. Dr. 
Willis was an upright, worthy man, gentle and 
humane in his profession, and amiable and pious as 
a clergyman. 


Mr. Pitt brought him down to Windsor, and after 
being introduced to the Queen he was taken in to see 
the King, her Majesty being present, though, as usual, 
out of sight. Mr. Pitt said, ' We have found a gen- 
tleman who has made the illness under which your 
Majesty is now labouring his study for some years, 
and we doubt not that he can render comfort, and 
alleviate many of the inconveniences your Majesty 
suflers.' Upon which the King replied, ' Will he 
let me shave myself, cut my nails, and have a knife 
at breakfast and dinner, and treat me as his Sovereign, 
not command me as a subject ? ' The doctor said, 
' Sire, I am a plain man, not used to Courts, but I 
honour and respect my King. I know my duty, and 
have always endeavoured to do it strictly. Bred to 
the Church, religion has been my guide, and to do 
all the good I can is my constant maxim and earnest 
desire.' That answer appeared to satisfy the anxiety 
of the King, who would immediately shave. 

This was permitted, and Mr. Papendiek now came 
with the necessary materials, the doctor privately ex- 
tolling the courage he had shown in having per- 
formed the operation on the previous occasion. It 
now took the King a long time to complete the task, 
and he was glad not to repeat it. The nails were 
cut the next day with the same permission. 

Dr. Willis having watched his Majesty minutely 
for twenty-four hours, ventured to give it as his 


opinion that the malady had been too long suffered to 
remain, but that if the constitution could bear the 
remedies necessary to work out the disease, he had 
no fear for a cure. 

Of course the physicians were less unanimous than 
ever now, but all concurred in their jealousy of this 
new comer, who, as time went on, and in spite of 
many relapses into even a worse condition than had 
before shown itself, would be sanguine. 

It now became, a question whether it would not 
be advisable to move his Majesty to Kew. Dr. Willis 
was entirely in favour of it, for two or three reasons, 
of which the principal one was the grounds and gar- 
den in which his Majesty could take air and exercise 
privately, and without any annoyance, while at 
Windsor the whole of the private garden could be 
seen from the Terrace, and to exclude the public 
suddenly from what they had hitherto had the pri- 
vilege of using, would give rise to comments and sur- 
mises that were best avoided. The Queen was very 
much against the move, knowing that the King him- 
self would object to it, having taken a disUke to 
the place; ♦and in this she was right, for when the 
idea was first proposed to him, he was very vehement 
in his objections. 

However, when the advantages were pointed out 
to her Majesty of the garden for exercise, of the 
conveniences of Kew in the matter of accommodation. 


and of its accessibility from London, she at once agreed 
to the undertaking with her usual sweet acquiescence 
in all that she thought might conduce to the King's 
welfare. The Queen desired Miss Goldsworthy to 
write a letter of introduction to Mrs. Tunstall, which 
Dr. Willis would himself be the bearer of, in order 
to make the required arrangements with her, and 
Ml'. FiihUng, the clerk of the works. 

The very large dining-room, with six windows to 
the west, was to be the King's living-room, with one 
window opened to the ground for his Majesty to step 
out into the garden whenever the sun should be suf- 
ficiently warm for him to take this exercise, the hard 
frost and extreme cold still continuing. In this room 
Dr. Willis approved of a constant fire being kept up, 
which was a comfort to all parties. 

From the guard-room at the back of this, the sol- 
diers with their encumbrances were removed to rooms 
near the gates of the office court, and the guard-room 
was converted into accommodation for the footmen 
and pages' men. This office court, near the King's 
room, gave excellent apartments for all who were in 
attendance, of every rank. 

The Queen's own suite of apartments was secured 
to her as before, as were also those of the elder and 
younger Princesses. The Queen's dressing-room was 
appropriated to Miss Goldsworthy, who continued to 
sleep in her Majesty's room. The King's bedroom 


adjoined the other room, then two rooms for Dr. Willis 
and his son Thomas, who was now sent for, that one 
or other of them might always be present. The bed- 
ding prepared for the King was of down feathers, and 
everything was done to show the most tender feeling 
for him as monarch, and yet as a sick and suffering 

A privy council was now convened at Windsor to 
sanction the removal. The Prince of Wales: the 
Chancellor, Mr. Pitt, and several of the ministers 
of state were present, and gave the necessary per- 

[Miss Burney gives the following interesting account 
of this meeting of the council, and of the circum- 
stances attending it. ' A privy council was held at 
the Castle, with the Prince of Wales : the Chancellor, 
Mr. Pitt, and all oflScers of state were summoned to 
sign a permission for the King's removal. The poor 
Queen gave an audience to the Chancellor — it was 
necessary to sanctify their proceedings. The Princess 
Eoyal and Lady Courtown attended her. It was a 
tragedy the most dismal ! 

' The Queen's knowledge of the King's aversion to 
Kew made her consent to this measure with the ex- 
tremest reluctance, yet it was not to be opposed. It 
was stated as much the best for him on account of 
the garden, as here there is none but what is public 
to spectators from the Terrace, or tops of houses. I 


believe they were perfectly right, though the removal 
was so tremendous. 

' The physicians were summoned to the privy 
council, to give their opinions, upon oath, that this 
step was necessary. 

' Inexpressible was the alarm of everyone, lest the 
King, if he recovered, should bear a lasting resentment 
against the authors and promoters of this journey. 
To give it, therefore, every possible sanction, it was 
decreed that he should be seen both by the Chancellor 
and Mr. Pitt. 

' The Chancellor went into his presence with a 
tremor such as, before, he had been only accustomed 
to inspire, and when he came out he was so extremely 
aflfected by the state in which he saw his royal master 
and patron that the tears ran down his cheeks, and 
his feet had difficulty to support him. 

' Mr. Pitt was more composed, but expressed his 
grief with so much respect and attachment, that it 
added new weight to the universal admiration v/ith 
which he is here beheld.' — Ed.] 

In a very short time the whole was ready. The 
office people and Lower Lodge moved first ; Lady 
Charlotte Pinch to her house by the water side, and 
the Princesses with their attendants, and Mr. Brown 
the page, to their usual apartments in Kew House. 

The regulations for the gentlemen porters and 
others were the same as at Windsor, only rather less 


strict, for a little more intercourse was allowed at Kew 
than there had been at Windsor. Mrs. Tunstall had 
the coffee and still-room, where Betty Snoswell with 
her assistants attended ; and night or day you were 
equally well served, and no one was deprived of a 
dish of tea when required, even if not a privileged 

Dr. Willis did not wish any of the gentlemen to be 
removed that the King was accustomed to see about 
him, but the Queen, knowing how much he disliked 
Mr. Compton, from the disrespectful way in which he 
talked of the late King's family, sent him back to his 
own home in Pimlico, which he by no means re- 
gretted. The four footmen were to continue, but 
Fortnum begged to resign from infirm health, and 
Howard was ordered in his stead. 

Fortnum now settled in business as a grocer in 
Piccadilly, the success of which undertaking is well 
known. • 

My uncle, as the Kew page, was now to do 
duty, but my father was not to be liberated, as 
the Queen wished as few changes as possible to 
take place. 

And now, all being ready, and all the arrange- 
ments made, the great move was to take place as 
soon as possible ; and it was satisfactorily accom- 
plished one evening early in the winter. 

I cannot recollect the exact date of this event, 


but my impression is that it was either at the close 
of 1788, or quite early in January of the succeeding 

Dr. Willis and the equerries went in the same coach 
with his Majesty, and the retinue followed. The 
Queen, Princesses, and their attendants followed 
closely, so that before her Majesty entered her room 
at Kew, she was able to be told that the King was 
safe in his new apartments. He at first expressed 
pleasure at the appearance of a cheerful fire, which 
for some time he had not seen ; but he became very 
indignant when he found that he was not to see the 
Queen. This had been held out as a promise to his 
Majesty, if he would consent to leave Windsor, and 
now, very wrongly in my humble opinion, the pro- 
mise was broken, and the King naturally felt hurt at 
the deception. 

Dr. Willis now wished that a consultation between 
the physicians should take place at least every two 
days, and the Queen soon found the comfort of the 
change to Kew ; as, being within easy reach of the 
metropolis, she was enabled to see Mr. Pitt nearly 
every day, and the physicians were no longer without 

[According to Miss Burney the removal to Kew 
was accomplished on Saturday, November 29. A few 
other discrepancies occur between her account of 
this transaction, and that of Mrs. Papendiek. For 


instance, as to the hour at which the Queen per- 
formed the journey, she says : * The poor Queen was 
to get off in private : the plan settled between the 
Princes and the physicians was that her Majesty and 
the Princesses should go away quietly, and then that 
the King should be told that they were gone, which 
was the sole method they could devise to prevail 
with him to follow. He was then to be allured by a 
promise of seeing them at Kew ; and as they knew 
he would doubt their assertion, he was to go 
through the rooms and examine the house himself. 
I believe it was about ten o'clock when her Majesty 
departed ; drowned in tears, she glided along the 
passage, and got softly into her carriage, with two 
weeping Princesses and Lady Courtown, who was 
to be her lady-in-waiting during this dreadful 

I cannot account for these inconsistencies, as both 
descriptions are so circumstantially given ; and I 
cannot find a third authority to reconcile the two. 
As, however, they are not points of material con- 
sequence, I leave them undecided. — ^Ed.] 

The routine now went steadily on, and though 
there were days of the utmost depression, when the 
reports of his Majesty were more than usually bad, 
there was, on the whole, a more hopeful feeUng 
creeping over the community ; for Dr. Willis, in spite 
of all that was said by the other physicians, and of 


the changes that sometimes took place for the worse, 
held to his own sanguine opinion of a cure, and in- 
spired all who came in contact with him with some 
of his confidence. 



Madame Schwellenberg again — Political intriguee*— Pitt stands firm — 
Unusually severe winter — Remedies for chilblains — Mrs. Jervois — 
Mrs. Stowe — Mrs. Roach — The baby fails in health — Mr. Meyer — 
The Forrests — The window for St. George's Chapel — Mrs. Papen- 
diek visits her aunt at Kew — John Cramer and other composers — 
Mrs Meyer— The Meyer family — Return home to Windsor — Dinners ; 
turtle, fish, meat, puddings, and beverages — Domestic arrangements — 
Knives and forks — Mr. Papendiek's short visit — Distress from the 
intense cold — Personal sorrow for the King and Queen — Serious 
illness of little George — Death of Mr. Meyer — Mrs. Willis — The 
Royal patient —The Regency Bill — Deputation to the Queen — Conva- 
lescence of the King — Lord Mulgrave's speech — ^Dr. Doran's review 
of the state of afiiairB. 

Madame Schwellenbebg took advantage of the 
former arrangements of dear Kew, to desire that Miss 
Burney alone should dine with her, and that Miss 
Planta should return to her former table with the 
Misses Gomm and Montmollin. 

The Queen saw Mrs. Tunstall every day, and 
herself arranged the meals with her for her own 
table and that of the Princesses. She desired that 
no communication should be kept up with the Miss 
Ducks, who were housekeepers to the Prince of 
Wales in the opposite house. The extreme rapidity 
with which all was got ready for the reception and 


accommodation of the King and the household, was 
due to Mr. Whitshed Keene, the head clerk in the 
Lord Chamberlain's office, under whose directions the 
whole w^as carried out. His apartments, or house, 
were the same as those in which the Princess Augusta 
now resides. He was succeeded by Mr. Nicholas 
Calvert, the elder of the brother brewers, who 
resided in the same house, and took his bride there ; 
but on the accession of George IV., being ordered to 
quit this desirable residence for his Majesty's ac- 
commodation, he resigned, and Mr. Mash, now Sir 
Thomas, was appointed to the situation. 

All this time much political intrigue was going 
on. and the question of a regency began to be dis- 
cussed in Parliament. After the meeting of the privy 
council at Windsor they made a report of the con- 
dition of the King, corroborated by that of the phy- 
sicians, which proved beyond doubt that his Majesty 
was not in a fit state to conduct the business of the 

The Prince of Wales now came forward, and, 
supported by the Whigs and their leader. Fox, an- 
nounced that upon him, as heir- apparent, should the 
government of the kingdom devolve ; and he seemed 
to wish his Eoyal mother to be set aside entirely. 
There was much discussion, and the Queen became 
the object of considerable calumny. She, however, 
supported this as she had all her previous troubles, 



with pious fortitude, and was upheld in all her views 
by Pitt, who not only helped her in asserting her 
rights, but stood firm in his adherence to the King, 
and acted throughout in a manner that was best for 
the country. 

But before continuing the relation of these pubhc 
affairs, I will return to our own private concerns. 

After Mr. Papendiek came over on November 3, 
to fetch his things and to take leave of us, our pro- 
ceedings were carried on with the greatest circum- 
spection. He wished us never to walk but where we 
were sure to avoid everyone belonging to Royalty 
and the household. 

It was, as I have before observed, a most remark- 
ably cold winter, so that it was only very rarely that 
any of my children, except Frederick, could stir out. 
Baby and Eliza were delicate, and poor little Char- 
lotte had sad broken chilblains round the heels, just 
at the top of the shoes, where the petticoats do not 
shelter the legs from the cold air. Her feet were 
wrapped in flannel and laid upon a chair, keeping 
on the chamois shoes, which were large and the 
warmest then made, so that when she felt inclined to 
move about a Uttle she could do so, as exercise was 
desirable for her general health. The remedies were 
to wash the poor broken chilblains with turnip water, 
and to put the turnip, well mashed and passed 
through a sieve, upon the wound as a poultice, gently 


rubbing those not broken with the turnip water, the 
object being to create circulation. 

Though the assemblies at the Town Hall for 
cards and dancing were suppressed, yet private 
evening parties were continued, probably on a rather 
more moderate scale, but to these I made a point of 
never going, out of respect and love for the Eoyal 
Family. The Jervois's were all friendliness, and to 
them I used constantly to go, to work with the ladies 
and to dine, and then, after sometimes a practice 
with Mr. Jervois, I would return home to tea. Mrs. 
Stowe, too, would sometimes come over to sup with 
me when her daughters and my children were gone 
to bed, and then we would draw our Uttle table 
close to the fire and settle what we would have. 
Eoasted oysters and egg beer were great favourites. 

Mrs. Eoach called now and then, and my sister 
and the little Zoffanys often passed the Sunday after- 
noons with us after coming out of church, and went 
home at dusk in the sedan, but this only when the 
cold, which showed little sign of abating, was not 
too severe. 

Dr. Mingay took regular care and guardianship 
of us, and we soon began to see that the poor little 
Georgy boy did not thrive. He moaned and pined 
and did not take his food properly. He slept ill, 
and after a few weeks we were both the worse for 
that. I kept large fires, and everything we could 

D 2 


think of was tried but failed. It now became neces- 
sary that he should have a wet nurse, and Mrs. 
Spencer, the wife of the bookkeeper and foreman at 
More's, who lived within three or four doors of us, 
was willing to take him. They were very respect- 
able people, and by no means low or vulgar, and I 
arranged with her that baby should remain with her, 
and that my nurse should go over two or three times 
during the day to feed and dress him. 

This was a trial to me, but I felt that it must 
be right to endeavour to save the life of the poor 
child and to improve his health ; and he certainly 
did improve, though he still remained a puny little 
thing. A little bed was put up in my room, and one 
or other of the three bairnies was always to sleep 
there, which was a great privilege and delight to 
them, poor little dears, and the race to be first 
made the act of going to bed more desirable to 

One afternoon, at dusk, 1 was surprised by a visit 
from Mr. Meyer, from Kew. He came in with his 
cheeks flushed, pimples well filled, and in a state of 
great excitement at not having been admitted at the 
Lodge or allowed to see any person there. 

I begged him to be calm while I explained the 
whole matter, when I felt sure he would under- 
stand how judicious the Queen's arrangements were. 
He had just received letters from his son in India, 


who at the age of seventeen had been sent out as 
writer, a situation not in those days so easily obtained. 

This amiable man was brought up at Westminster, 
where he became head of the school, showing himself 
talented, elegant, and prepossessing, and through 
Mrs. Hastings, an old friend and fellow' country- 
woman, both being WUrtembergers, he obtained this 
appointment. She, always wishing to please the 
Queen, gave it as through the interest of Madame 
Schwellenberg, and therefore one can understand 
Meyer's disappointment at not being able to show the 
first letters of this young man, which spoke greatly 
to his credit, for he in a very modest way mentioned 
that being already able to correspond in the Eastern 
languages, he was receiving 4,000/. a year. 

Mr. Meyer wanted to go off at once, but as I 
told him that there was no conveyance at that hour, 
he allowed me to order dinner and a bed for him 
at the house opposite, with which he was pleased. 
He said he admired my serene cheerfulness, so 
different from my aunt at Kew, who was bewailing 
their being ordered to remain there, and her lot 

I said, ' Let her send my eldest cousin to me. We 
will amuse her,' and to my astonishment and pleasure, 
in a day or two, down she came, delighted. She was 
a great acquisition to the Jervois's particularly in her 
practising with Mr. Jervois, and she in return gained 


great advantages by playing with the accompaniment 
of the Griesbachs, and by constantly hearing new 
music. I got Eodgers to come in every evening to 
give her a lesson, and with him she studied really 
good music and improved greatly. 

Our morning occupations over, we walked when 
the sun shone, and amongst other places I took her 
to the Forrests', to show her neatness, comfort, and 
quiet happiness in a family circle where poverty 
rather than plenty was certainly resident. 

To my surprise I found the sweet Uttle garden, 
which had hitherto been cultivated in a manner 
most pleasing to the eye, filled with stoves and 
furnaces for burning glass. These were to try some 
process by which the small panes, which were each 
separately burned after being coloured, would be 
rendered less liable to crack or break. 

We went on to Jarvis's, a little lower down in 
Peascod Street, and in his work-rooms saw the painted 
window of the Eesurrection, for St. George's Chapel, 

The Dean and Chapter had informed the Queen, 
through General Goldsworthy, that the window was 
ready to be put up, and that they awaited her Ma- 
jesty's commands. The Queen did not wish to have 
it put up, in the confident hope that the King would 
yet have the pleasure of directing the work, as 
originally intended ; but she quite approved of its 


being temporarily fixed, in order to judge of the 

The authorities, with other competent artists, the 
Queen and Princesses, with their little court around 
them, all concurred in the opinion that it was too 
narrow, and that sides must be added, for which Mr. 
West was ordered to prepare the cartoons. 

He at once thought that the most appropriate 
subjects would be * the three Marys coming early to 
the Sepulchre the first day of the week' for one 
side, and * the two Disciples outrunning each other ' 
for the opposite side. This was agreed upon, 
and the drawings were to be immediately begun, 
with the endeavour to complete the work by the 

After this meeting, Mr. Forrest, on the way home, 
spoke to Jarvis about the secret process for burning 
the glass, of which he, Jarvis, had hitherto had the 
monopoly, and urged his making it over* to him, as 
he had neither son, nephew, nor any friend to assist. 
Forrest had an honest, upright heart, and had 
served Jarvis well in his work, especially in the 
window of New College, Oxford, and in this window 
for St. George's Chapel, and he promised to assist his 
labours with additional alacrity if he would do this 
thing for him. 

However, Jarvis was inexorable, and then Forrest 
said that he considered himself bound to finish* all 


the Cliapel work with him upon the same terms, 
but that, after that, he should feel himself at liberty 
to erect stoves and endeavour to find out this or 
some other process for himself that would answer 
equally well. 

Should he succeed, he would strive in every way 
to act honourably by him ; and thus they parted, 
shaking hands and remaining good friends. These 
stoves were what we had seen in Forrest's garden. 

After a fortnight a letter from my aunt came, 
desiring the return of her daughter, as they were all 
so at a loss without her. This was accompanied by 
a pressing invitation to me from my aunt, and also 
from the Meyers, both of which I promised to tKink 
about on parting with my cousin, whose visit had 
been mutually pleasant to us both. We had read 
together Miss Burney's two novels, * Evelina ' and 
* Cecilia,' and I had helped her with some work, 
having given her the materials for a cover for her 

Being able to make satisfactory arrangements for 
my children, I did in a short time go to visit my 
aunt at Kew. It gave me intense pleasure to see the 
place again after this long interval, for no one had 
invited me there since my marriage. 

I made the acquaintance of some new people, 
the Grahams, who had taken my father's old house, 
and were a great acquisition to the neighbourhood. 


My cousin was very anxious to occupy her time 
more profitably, and as she had suddenly shown a 
decided talent for music, I proposed that she should 
give lessons at her own home, which would enable 
her to pay for masters to improve herself in other 

My uncle acquiesced, as he said he could only 
afford to educate his boys, but my aunt made some 
objections. She, however, afterwards consented, and 
as music was becoming a much more general accom- 
plishment, my cousin soon succeeded in getting a few 
pupils at Kew, though there were now several good 
masters and new composers. 

Schroeder was retiring, but Huimandel had al- 
ready begun with success ; John Cramer had also 
started, and Clementi was waiting to see the progress 
of things, intending to come down upon them all like 
a thunderbolt. His talent was known, and people 
were watching the result. Benser was an excellent 
master on Bach's plan, but could not give you any 
sentiment for the science. 

My cousin's manner of playing was gay, her pas- 
sages being executed with extreme neatness, and a 
brilliancy and interest was kept up in allegro or 
presto movements ; yet a flippancy pervaded that 
she could not or did not wish to conquer. So in 
adagio she failed, having no knowledge of, or feel- 
ing for the fine harmonies therein expressed, either 


simple or chromatic ; no seizure of the instrument to 
produce effect ; no power to convey to the minds of 
others the beauties which her own mind did not 
feel. She played all alike equally neatly and quietly, 
put in a turn or a shake in good taste, and a well 
chosen crescendo or diminuendo in certain passages, 
but there was no soul in the performance. 

1 did all I could to help my cousins, while I was 
with them, to arrange their occupations and studies 
as far as they could carry them on for themselves, 
for, unfortunately, my aunt was not of much assist- 
ance in this matter. My uncle's income was small, 
and he did not see the necessity for the girls to have 
much education. He said that when in town they 
had Mr. Meilan for grammar, religious and profane 
reading, with a writing master who also taught 
ciphering, and they would do very well. Needle- 
work they could pick up in the nursery, where they 
always muddled away their mornings ; and so on. 

In the evenings friends constantly dropped in, 
and my uncle and aunt would join in a social game 
of cards or dice, ending with a neat little repast 
and a nicely mixed warm beverage, the mode of the 
time ; and although all this was most agreeable, 
could it be right for parents thus to enjoy them- 
selves every day, without paying the slightest atten- 
tion to the numerous family growing up around 
them, either as to their studies or amusements .^ 


Thus we parted, and on the following morning 
I went to the Meyers, where I was most hospitably 
received. Mrs. Meyer was very enthusiastic, and 
said : ' My dear Lotte, you are what we always 
thought you! You sent home Mr. Meyer quite 
composed, and able to enjoy his letters, and your 
cousin a different being.' Poor Mrs. Meyer was at 
this time very suffering. Having hurt her leg by 
a fall and bruised it severely, her medical advisers 
said she must keep it in a horizontal position, as it 
did not recover, and showed a disposition to break. 
I therefore sat by her with my work, and many 
hours did we talk together. 

She had not had a very happy married life, and 
it was a comfort to her to unburden her mind lo so 
old a friend as I was. She told me that after her 
second daughter was bom, her husband said that as 
he saw he was only to be troubled with girls, he 
would not have them brought up fine learned ladies, 
but that they should be taught plain reading, plain 
needlework, writing, and ciphering as far as addi- 
tion of money. At as early an age as they could 
possibly be sent from home, poor things, Mr. Meyer 
found out a school in Staffordshire, whither lie took 
them, and contracted for their staying three years. 
Their clothing was of linsey-woolsey, black worsted 
stockings, which in those days were only seen on 
servants of an inferior order and the lower workinjr 


classes, camlet cloaks with hoods, bonnets of tlie 
same, straw not then being known, and strong leather 

All going on fairly for these three years, two 
more were added, and when they returned home, the 
poor mother was distressed indeed. 

Charlotte, the eldest, had always been idiotish, 
which had certainly increased as she grew. She 
was in figure and face the mother's likeness, which, 
without a mind to illumine the countenance, must, 
as she said, be plain indeed. Her occupation was 
doing every stitch of plainwork for the family, and 
she sat alone, never seeming to care for companion- 
ship, or taking interest in any one thing. 

Mary, the second, Mrs. Meyer had some hope 
for. Her figure was that of her father, her eyes 
lively, and she must have had some beauty, as Sir 
Joshua Eeynolds had selected her for his * Hebe ; ' 
but the countenance portended the very ill-temper 
which she added to her very ill-breeding, and her 
ill-judged conduct spoke to her want of goodness of 
heart, for on a summer's afternoon, while she was 
still quite young, she left home upon some slight 
observation of disapprobation, with the intention of 
engaging herself as needlewoman in some family. 

She took the route of Mortlake, Barnes, Putney, 
over Fulham Bridge to Hammersmith, and there 
went to the principal inn, jaded with fatigue and 


want of food. The mistress of the inn thought she 
had some recollection of her, and knowing that Mr. 
Englehardt, of Kew, was in a return chaise at the 
door, she requested him to come into the parlour 
and assist her in the development of the affair. 
The moment Englehardt saw her he asked what she 
could be doing there alone past midnight. The 
woman then begged him to take care of her home, 
and when she heard who she was, she blessed the 
mother and reproved the daughter. At daybreak 
Mr. Englehardt delivered her to the care of Mrs. 
Hawkins, who was then with Mrs. Meyer, and who 
led the girl to her mother. 

It was diflScult to know what to do with her, as 
she was averse to reading or superior needlework, so 
it was decided that she should act as housekeeper, 
which suited her tastes. 

Poor Mrs. Meyer's next great trouble was an 
epidemic of fever with putrid sore throat, which 
attacked her children. All the younger ones died, 
and so great was the fear of infection that every 
one fled from the house, and she had the greatest 
difficulty in getting the necessaries of life brought to 
her door. She was sent away as soon as possible for 
change of air, and the house thoroughly purified. 

After this came her one happiness, the birth of 
the son who was then in India, and who was in his 
early days brought up and taught entirely by her. 


taking such an excellent place on going to West- 
minster that she was much complimented upon the 
way she hail grounded him in all subjects of learn- 
ing. He grew up, as we have seen, to be a comfort 
and joy to both his parents. 

After spending a few pleasant days with this dear 
friend of my early years, I returned home to Windsor 
and found my children safe and fairly well, with the 
exception of the poor chilblains, which were much 
in the same state. Georgy was certainly benefiting 
by the change of treatment. 

Christmas Day I passed with my children and 
servants in the usual manner. I did not go to St. 
George's Chapel for fear of meeting anyone who might 
be inquisitive, but I joined the service at the parish 
church, where we had a pew, and stayed to the sa- 
crament. I always venerated religion, and never 
neglected the public or private duties of it except from 
very pressing domestic requirements; I trust not 
from a disobedient or careless mind. 

At the end of 1788 luxury had to some extent 
gained ground. Dinners were still at two o'clock, or 
for company at three. Of soups, even then We only had 
gravy clear, or with vegetables cut small swimming at 
the top. White soup was used for ball suppers, but 
a white dinner soup, or mock turtle, had only found 
their way down as far as the Lord Mayor's table, real 
turtle being dressed only as a ragout, never as asouj). 


Beef or mutton broth were sometimes sent up in a 
large dish, with the meat and vegetables all together. 
Of fish, in winter cod and smelts was a choice dish, 
and we also had herrings, sprats, oysters, and lobsters 
when hawked ; in summer, salmon, sea or river, 
salmon trout, generally pickled, mackerel, haddock, 
Dutch plaice, shrimps, and prawns ; river and pond 
fish all the year, stewed, broiled, fried, or water 
souch^d in a tureen in the centre. The next course 
two dishes roast and boiled, with appropriate vege- 
tables, and dumplings, and for a friend generally a 
third was added. 

These were ordinarily joints of beef, mutton, or 
veal, replaced sometimes by a calf s head, or rump 
steak in slices sent up hot and hot, or a knuckle of 
veal with a gammon of bacon, ham being a very ex- 
pensive luxury and only used for gala dinners. In 
winter a dehcacy was a boiled leg of house lamb, 
with lamb chops round. Mutton heated a second 
time was never brought to table, geese and ducks 
could be had only from June to old Michaelmas Day, 
fowls and pigeons round the year, but very frugally 

. Company puddings were, lemon, potato, ground 
rice, vermicelli, marrow, boiled batter and bread in 
moulds or cups, pancakes, apple fritters, omelettes, 
and tarts of various kinds with custard or cream. 
Then cheese &c. as now, but macaroni and other 

48 COURT AND privatp: life in 

savoury dishes were not then introduced. Malt 
liquor, cider, and perry, were the ordinary drinks at 
dinner, and port and madeira were put upon the table 
afterwards with a trifling dessert. If the gentlemen 
assembled wished to make a drinking bout, which 
often was the case, it began after supper. 

Smoked provisions were not much known. At the 

King's House, they received all kinds that were known 

from the controller, Mr. Mackenthum, at Hanover, and 

also from Baron Alvensleben, the Hanoverian envoy. 

His maltre-d'hotel or cook tried a smoking room at 

the baron's house on Ham Common, and failed. Some 

years later the Queen's housekeeper, Mrs. Starkey, 

had a room built at Frogmore, and succeeded. Every 

meat and every sausage was then as well cured as 

in the foreign countries from w^hich they had been 

procured as a delice or curiosity. Now (1837) these 

smoked provisions are in general use, and from the 

duty having been taken ofi* salt, they are as cheap in 

proportion as fresh provisions. Prices in 1788 were, 

upon an average, meat bd. a lb., bread 4rf. or 5d. a 

quartern loaf, eggs in spring 16 or 18 for 4rf., fowls 

in summer and autumn 1^. 6d. a pair, loaf sugar 7rf. 

a lb. ; wages seven or eight guineas, and 1/. for tea or 

beer. Washing always done at home, and everything 

ironed, as mangles then cost 25Z., whereas I believe 

they can now be bought for as many shillings. 

Very few of the rank I am speaking of kept more • 


than two female servants. The housemaid could 
assist the lady, for a hairdresser was employed, 
either by the quarter for daily dressing, or on par- 
ticular occasions. No new gown was ever made at 
home, and the mantua-maker, the term of those days, 
attended upon dress occasions to see that her work 
was correct and to assist in having it properly put on. 
The housemaid had plenty of time for needlework, as 
work was not so stirring then as in these days. Eooms 
were very plainly furnished, all ornaments being put 
into cases or closets, and only brought out upon 
occasions, and not much silver was kept out in daily 
use. Silver forks were only used by the nobihty and 
foreign ambassadors, but silver-handled knives and 
forks were sometimes seen, and more often ivory or 
bone handles, or ebony fluted, with silver ferrules. 
Forks still had only three prongs, so knives were made 
with broad ends for eating peas in summer, and the 
same of a smaller size for catching up the juice of a 
fruit pie, dessert spoons being quite unknown in our 

What an idea to think upon in these days of refine- 
ment ! And yet all requisites of good breeding, ac- 
quired knowledge, and refined tastes, would be found 
in every well-regulated estabUshment, and these 
little things were simply matters of fashion. Indeed, 
though all manufactures and appliances of Ufe are 



greatly improved, I doubt if there is more imiate 
refinement now than there was in those days. 

Before leaving Windsor, ray father and Mr. 
Papendiek came to see us. Mr. Fapendiek was much 
hurt and dissatisfied at my arrangements for Uttle 
George. He said that his nurse in the course of 
nature would soon be obliged to wean the child, and 
that worse would happen than if we had tried to 
persevere at home. 

Thus was our short meeting blighted. 

Charlotte's chilblains were still bad ; the cold was 
too intense for them to heal, but the others were well. 

My poor father was silent, but he felt as we all 
did, sorry. However, I could not regret what I had 
done, and I felt that any step taken with due con- 
sideration, and with the intention of acting for the 
best, could not in itself be wrong. And although 
Mr: Papendiek's prophecy was soon realised, yet the 
few months' good feeding may have given strength to 
poor baby, and power to weather the severe illness 
of which I shall soon have to speak. 

Henceforth I was to correspond with my husband, 
but as seldom as possible. Mr. Papendiek left with 
me what he usually allowed for home expenditure, 
and as I knew that he would be at no increased 
expense at the Queen's House in the service he was 
performing (in fact, if anything, he would require 
rather less), I urged some little addition for the pay- 


ment of Mrs. Spencer, the nurse. This Mr. Fapendiek 
would not accede to. Therefore difficulty arose, for 
coals were used in double quantity, and some indul- 
gences were absolutely required. 

The greatest distress prevailed from the extreme 
cold, of the mitigation of which there seemed no hope, 
and charities were brought so pressingly before one 
that my heart ached, the more so that I had so little 
power to help my poor suffering fellow- creatures. 

We parted in sorrow. And so ended this event- 
ful year, a.d. 1788 ; eventful in its sadness, and its 
occurrences so touching to one's feelings that they 
made an impression never to be effaced. We, who 
were so intimately connected with the Eoyal house- 
hold, took these things, perhaps, more entirely home 
to our hearts, but I may say that there was scarcely 
one person throughout the land who did not grieve 
for them — so truly were our King and Queen beloved 
and revered. 

The month of January continued extremely dreary, 
and all went on as usual with me and my friends. 
Towards the end of the month, what Mr. Papendiek 
had prophesied came to pass. Mrs. Spencer, with her 
sense of rectitude, told us of it immediately, and poor 
little George came home. Whether from the change 
of food or from cold Dr. Mingay could not say for 
certain, but the child was suddenly seized with so 
violent an attack upon his chest that he could neither 

£ 2 


eat or play, or even move. Nature seemed under a 
stupor, and in this condition he remained for three 
days. After that time he revived, and, although 
with great difficulty, he did attempt to cry. Poor 
little fellow, he was kept warm night and day, and by 
degrees he began to take a little food. By the greatest 
care, and with the assistance of our kind Dr. Mingay's 
skill, he did eventually recover, but the poor child 
was a great anxiety to us for a considerable time. 

Since the Koyal Family had been at Kew, a slight 
relaxation of the very strict rules that before had been 
enjoined was made, and now a few of those persons 
attached to the household, such as John and Thomas 
Haverfield, the Kichmond and Kew gardeners, old 
Alton, Meyer, and one or two more, had permission 
to make inquiries, and when opportunity offered, to 
step in and see their old friends. 

Meyer had been ill with a fever and cold, but as 
soon as he was better, his first walk was to Kew 
House. There he had to encounter Ernst, who was 
in one of his bad humours, and kept poor Meyer 
waiting for him in a room that had just been washed, 
and which was therefore cold and damp. He returned 
home in haste, but fresh cold succeeded. A relapse 
came on, and poor Meyer was no more. 

The widow collected his miniatures, drawings, &c., 
with the assistance of her friends, and those that were 
likenesses she sent, whether finished or unfinished, to 


the people who had sat for them, without making any 
demand. She gave up the house at Covent Garden, 
and established herself entirely at Kew, concentrating 
the valuables and beauties of the two houses, and by 
this means making her residence very comfortable 
and pretty. 

To the Queen, having first obtained permission 
through Madame SchweUenberg, she also sent all 
miniatures of their Majesties and the Royal Family, 
again without any demand being made. This so 
pleased the Queen that she liberally rewarded Mrs. 
Meyer for her honourable conduct. 

Some who had received their pictures showed the 
same consideration, and paid handsomely ; others took 
no notice at all; and a few said they had paid at 
their first sitting, it being the general rule that half 
the sum is paid down in advance, and the rest on 
completion of the portrait. Nothing was expected 
by Mrs. Meyer, so the loss was not felt, but she was 
naturally gratified by the thoughtfulness and liberality 
of the few. 

Mr. Papendiek and Dr. Thomas Willis found that 
they had a mutual tie of friendship through the 
wife of the latter, who had been one of the Misses 
Strong. This was a satisfactory discovery, and Mr. 
Papendiek being much liked in the establishment, 
was able to secure a welcome reception for Mrs. 
Willis. Mrs. Tunstall, who was always glad to oblige 


any of our family, contrived to find her a bed, Betty 
Snoswell waited upon her, and her meals were regu- 
larly served with the neatness and comfort born of 
good feeling. There was a great feeling of respect 
and confidence throughout the whole household for 
all the Willis family, and they were only pleased to 
do anything they could to oblige them also. Mrs. 
Willis only remained when all was going well with 
the King, but when likely to be in the way she 

Dr. Willis's treatment continued to have the most 
satisfactory results, and though the other physicians 
were not warm in hope, he always said, * A little more 
time I ask for. Even as days go on, I do not despair.' 
What the hope was, or how the improvement was 
shown, I do not understand, but I heard that the fever 
was less, that the temper of mind was more cheerful, 
and that the medicines were acting with greater 
facility. One of these medicines was musk. What its 
properties are, and how it was expected to act upon the 
Royal patient, I do not know, but the scent was very 
objectionable to the King, and he begged that it might 
be discontinued. Dr. Willis explained that he could 
not obey or attend to his Majesty's wish, as he so 
depended upon its efficacy. Everybody seemed to 
sufier from the power of it, and poor Mr. Papendiek 
was almost in a stupor from it. 

The month of January brought the recovery very 


forward, and everybody prayed that it might be 
consummated before the Eegency Bill was passed. 
Party feeling ran very high, but there was great 
dread among all who were attached to the King and 
Crown, lest the Prince of Wales should succeed in 
his evident desire of being nominated Regent without 
restrictions upon his power. Pitt, Grenville, Thurlow, 
and many others, both in the House of Lords and in 
the Commons, contrived to spin out the debates so as 
to gain time, but at last it was announced that the 
Bill was to be formally brought before Parliament on 
February 3. 

The Prince of Wales, after much pressure, agreed 
to accept the Regency upon the terms proposed, 
namely, without any power but that of signature, 
which the Council would direct. He did this with 
very great displeasure, and showed very bad taste 
and a total want of heart or filial affection. 

It was proposed to insert a clause in the Bill to 
the effect that every hope was entertained for the 
King's recovery, and that it was only agreed to in 
order to facilitate business ; that it would probably 
be only fcH* a very short period, and that they wished 
the King to find on his return to health that no 
changes had taken place. 

The Queen received an address at Kew, with her 
little Court around her, which consisted of the Cham- 
berlain, two ladies of the bedchamber, two maids of 


honour, the pages of presence, the three elder Prin- 
cesses and their two ladies ; all in Court hoops, and 
the Queen and Princesses in sacque dresses, as they 
appeared at the Abbey festival. The deputation 
came in full dress at two o'clock in the afternoon, 
and her Majesty had a chair of state raised upon a 
platform, to receive them with proper respect. 

I mention these little particulars, as they were 
ridiculed in the opposition papers. 

This was the first time she had been addressed as 
Queen, in distinction to the title of Queen Consort, 
it being now proposed that she should have the care 
of the King's person, and that she should receive the 
report of the physicians, and be present during their 
examinations ; and further, that she should have the 
care and regulation of the household, except as 
regarded the lords of the bedchamber, who as they 
would not now be required to give their attendance 
to the King, would be attached to the person of the 
Prince of Wales, and attend him when any state 
occasion called for their appearance. 

The Queen's answer was animated, and expressed 
gratitude for the trust reposed in her, and a desire that 
to assist her judgment in matters of moment, a 
council might be formed of any persons they thought 
proper to appoint, to whom she might apply upon 
all occasions, and trust for careful guidance. 

Some days elapsed after the presentation of these 


addresses before one was fixed upon to receive the 
answers, and on the day that the Prince was to give 
his, a deputation firom the Irish Parhament arrived 
to invite him to undertake the administration of the 
Irish Government, with no restrictions, during the 
King's incapacity. 

How gladly he might have accepted this position 
we can only guess at, for most fortunately at that 
very juncture the TTiTig was declared convalescent, 
and able once more to return to the helm of 

He was not allowed by his physicians immedi- 
ately to attend to business, but the announcement of 
his Majesty's recovery at once, of course, stopped the 
debate upon the Eegency Bill, and for a few days 
Parliament was adjourned. 

The names of the Duke of York, and of the 
King's brother, Henry of Cumberiand, were at the 
end of the Ust of Peers who petitioned the Prince of 
Wales not to accept the Kegency restricted, when 
upon its being known that the King was convales- 
cent, it was given out that it had been done without 
their concurrence. 

Of the lords spiritual, Markham, Archbishop of 
York, and the Bishops of liandaff and Norwich, were 
against the Queen having any share in the Kegency. 
As Liandaff said, *It weakened the power of the 
Crown, and divided the affections of the family.' 


Lord Mulgrave, in his speech during the debate, 
expressed extreme surprise at hearing the Queen so 
disrespectfully as well as so unkindly and so un- 
generously spoken of for wishing to accept a trust 
(the care of her husband), from which he sincerely 
hoped she would not be deterred by intimidation. 
He believed that excellence in the female character 
did still exist, and trusted that her Majesty would 
not from any cause be prevented from undertaking 
this charge, as well as the care of the faithful ser- 
vants of the household. It was not proposed to give 
the Queen power to change the persons who held the 
leading places, yet she was ready and happy to give 
any assistance to the situation the Royal Family 
were then placed in, and he. Lord Mulgrave, was 
distressed and hurt to find that a person like the 
Queen, whose conduct had ever been held up to the 
country generally as an example of all that is true 
and good, who had been hitherto beloved and re- 
vered, who could not be assailed by even a breath 
of calumny, should, in a moment of affliction Uke 
the present, be subject to every remark of severity, 
and to an entire absence of dutiful respect, because 
she had acquiesced in the desire of those ministers 
of the Crown who at this critical juncture had 
proved themselves the real and attached friends of 
their Sovereign. This animated speech of Lord 
Mulgrave's, of which my feeble powers can give but 


a very faint outline, made some impression on tl\p 
House, and under the idea that recovery was ap- 
proaching, a little more moderation was observed. 

Both the Queen and Prince did accept the proposed 
trust, and doubtless these arrangements would have 
held good had his Majesty remained an invahd ; but 
now that he was declared convalescent, he did at 
times see and converse with the Cabinet Ministers, 
particularly Mr. Pitt, who had constantly been with 
the King throughout his whole illness, and had been 
staunch in his allegiance to his master. 

[Dr. Doran's review of the state of affairs in the 
political world at this time, gives a very clear idea of 
the situation. He says, ' The whole country became 
Tory in spirit — as Toryism had now developed itself. 
Fox in vain explained that he meant that the admin- 
istration of the government belonged to the Prince of 
Wales, only if Parliament sanctioned it. In vain the 
Prince of Wales, through his brother the Duke of 
York, proclaimed in the House of Lords that he made 
no claim whatever, but was, in fact, the very humble 
and obedient servant of the people. 

* It was precisely because he did assert this claim 
that the Queen and her friends were alarmed. 
Should the Prince be endowed with the powers of 
Kegent without restriction, the Queen would be re- 
duced to a cipher, Pitt would lose his place, the 
ministry would be overthrown with him, and, should 


the King recover, difficulties might arise in the way 
of the recovery also of his authority. 

* Party spirit ran high on this matter, but there 
was little patriotism to give it dignity. Among the 
ministry even, waverers were to be found who were 
on the Prince's side when the King's case seemed 
desperate, and who veered round to the Sovereign's 
party as soon as there appeared a hope of his 

* A restricted Eegency the Prince of Wales affected 
to look upon with ineffable scorn. His Royal brothers 
manifested more fraternal sympathy than filial affec- 
tion by pretending to think their brother's scorn 
well founded. They all changed their minds when 
they saw, by Pitt's parliamentary majorities, that they 
could not help themselves. Ultimately the Prince 
consented with a very ill grace to the terms which 
Pitt and the Parliament were disposed to force upon 
himr Never did man submit to terms which he 
loathed with such bitterness of disappointed spirit as 
the Prince did to the following conditions, namely : 

' That the King's person was to be entrusted to the 
Queen ; her Majesty was to be also invested with the 
control of the Royal household, and with the conse- 
quent patronage of the four hundred places con- 
nected therewith, including the appointments of Lord 
Steward, Lord Chamberlain, and Master of the Horse. 
The Prince, as Regent, .was further to be debarred 


from granting any office, reversion, or pension, 
except during the King's pleasure, and the privilege 
of conferring the peerage was not to be allowed to 
him at all. 

* With a fiercely savage heart did he accept these 

* And now the day was appointed for bringing the 
Regency Bill regularly before Parliament — ^February 
3rd — and the clauses were already under discussion 
when, a fortnight later, the Lord Chancellor (Thurlow) 
announced to the House that the King was declared 
by his medical attendants to be in a state of conva- 
lescence.' — Ed.] 



The King absolutely refufies to see the Queen — Some days later he 
agrees to see her — ' Queen Esther ' — ^The King walks with the Queen 
and the Princesses — Want of filial affection of the Prince of Wales 
and the Duke of York — ^Thurlow — Mr. Papendiek sends for his wife 
to Eew to attend the rejoicings — A prayer of thanksgiving — General 
illuminations — The Bank most splendid — Cortege of the Queen and 
Princesses — ^The King receives the Queen on her return to Kew — He 
conducts her to the supper-room — ^Verses on the entrance gates — 
Illuminations kept up for three nights — Mrs. Zoffany's house — Mrs. 
Roach — Frederick's sixpence — Baron Dillon — ^A subscription ball at 
Windsor — The King receives an address from the Lords and 
Commons — ^The Queen holds a drawing-room during March — Mrs. 
Papendiek goes to London — The procession for the public thanks- 
giving — The King attends the service in St. Paul's Cathedral — ^A new 
dress introduced — Fresh difficulties about Dr. Willis's men — 'Not 
full page ' — The Royal Family return to Windsor — ^Mr. Papendiek 
returns to his home fatigued and disappointed. 

A NEW difficulty occurred just at the moment that 
Dr. Willis was anxious to present the King to his 
people as being thoroughly restored, and in a fit con- 
dition to take part in the business of the State. His 
Majesty could not be prevailed upon, indeed he abso- 
lutely refused, to see the Queen ! He said that he 
had always respected her and had paid her every 
attention, but when she should have screened his 
malady from the public she had deserted him, and 
left him to the care of those who had used him ill, 


inasmuch as they had forgotten him to be their 
Sovereign ; that he had always felt a great partiality 
for Queen Esther (Lady Pembroke), and with her, 
upon a proper agreement, he would end his days. 

Dr. Willis was obliged again to use remedies to 
ensure a perfect recovery. The mind and body were 
still weak, and a few days intervened before the 
usual good accounts could be again put before the 
pubUc ; but the Queen exerted her power of trust, 
and would not suffer the word 'relapse' to be in- 
serted in the bulletins. It was represented as more 
of a bodily attack, which it really was, as the mind 
was only now suffering from the long-continued state 
of weakness. 

When the King awoke two or three mornings after 
this little break in the satisfactory progress of his 
Majesty's recovery, he talked in a perfectly rational 
and quiet manner to those about him, and on rising 
complained of the cold, which in his case always 
showed that the fever had passed off. A fire was 
permitted, and when the King had taken his break- 
fast he was shaved and dressed. This had been done 
for some time past by Dr. Willis's men, but on this 
particular occasion my father was proposed. No 
objection was raised, and he came with the necessary 
requisites, bringing Mr. Papendiek, as before, to per- 
form the operation. All was satisfactorily completed, 
when Dr. Willis said, *The Queen waits without. 


Your Majesty's pleasure will be to command an in- 
terview.' ' It is my wish/ answered the King, * if 
the Queen has no objection to see me in the abject 
state in which I must appear before her.' 

In a quiet, impressive manner the Queen entered. 
To the joy of Willis, his Majesty kissed her, said not 
a word, but shed a flood of tears. After recovering 
himself he wished to tell the Queen of all his suffer- 
ings, but she said she was aware of them, and had 
known of all that had passed both by day and night ; 
that Dr. Willis was the friend of them both, and 
would make his Majesty acquainted with everything 
that had been done throughout those sufferings if 
he wished. She added that she was sure the King 
would think that she had made the best possible 
arrangements for conducting the attendance upon 
him, and had studied his comforts and welfare in 
every way that was in her power. 

The interview was short, but after this first visit 
the Queen saw his Majesty every day twice. For a 
time one of the Willis's was always present. The 
King still rambled at times, particularly on the sub- 
ject of Queen Esther, of whom he had been fond 
from the first moment that she had been introduced 
at Court. He also at times had slight returns of 
fever, but all these evils passed off by degrees. 

Each day now brought joy into every countenance, 
and the great depression was removed from the land. 


The King saw his daughters and the Queen constantly, 
and walked with them, but as yet he had not been 
out in a carriage. His meals were now of a more 
natural kind, one of the Willis's, nevertheless, being 
still present to watch the slightest return of the malady. 
The apartments remained the same, but a sitting- 
room was added in which the ministers waited, one 
only being introduced at a time. Every day now 
seemed to give strength, and the King began by 
degrees to resume his usual habits and to visit the 
various members of his family. 

A gradual change in the weather began at the 
end of February, when the thermometer rose con- 
siderably, and by the beginning of March a decided 
thaw set in. This genial change decidedly im- 
proved the King's bodily health, and the mind was 
strengthened by the more healthy state of the body. 
He conversed with those who came into his presence, 
and they accosted him with greater freedom. The 
equerries resumed their regular attendance, the 
Queen's visits were no longer restricted, and every- 
thing began to fall back into its ordinary course. 
The public had not yet seen the King, and though 
the park gates were unlocked, and people that were 
known no longer denied intercourse with the house- 
hold, no one as yet was admitted to his Majesty's 
presence, except the ministers occasionally. 

The conduct of the Prince of Wales and the 


Duke of York was extremely heartless. At their 
first interview with the King after his recovery, they 
showed no emotion whatever, unless the mortification 
at the loss of power which was so evidently depicted 
on their countenances may be termed emotion. Of 
fiUal afiection they appeared to have none, and it is 
grievous to have to relate that so far from showing 
any pleasure at the restoration of the King to health, 
they rather tried to affect a disbelief in his Majesty's 
sanity, and went about among their friends, telling of 
words and phrases he had used which might be con- 
strued into proofs of their assertion. At last, how- 
ever, the King got so perfectly well that even they 
were obliged to confess it, but their behaviour, both 
in public and in private, continued to be in every 
respect despicable. 

The debates now again ran high, so much so 
that they drew forth that wonderfully strong ejacula- 
tion from Thurlow, the Lord Chancellor : ' May God 
forget me when I forget my King ! He is recovered, 
and executes business with as much clearness and 
steadiness as before.' 

[I cannot forbear quoting another passage from 
Dr. Doran's * Lives of the Queens of England ' in this 
place. * Li justice to the opposition it must be re- 
marked that the greatest traitor was not on that side» 
but on the King's. The Lord Chancellor Thurlow 
was intriguing with the opposition when he was 


affecting to be a faithful servant of the Crown, His 
treachery, however, was well known to both partiess 
but Htt kept it fix)m the knowledge of George DI,, 
lest it should too deeply pain or too dangerously 
excite him. Wlien Thurlow had subsequently the 
effrontery to exclaim in the House of Lords, *" When 
I forget my King, may my God forget me I '' a voict? 
from one behind him is said to have murmured, 
" Forget you ! He will see you d — d first." * — ^Ed.] 

During this time things were going on with us at 
Windsor much as usual. It had been a great satis- 
faction to me that I had been able to correspond with 
my husband, and we greatly rejoiced at the more 
favourable accounts communicated to us, and still 
more when the news of tlie King's complete reco- 
very reached us. The cold retreating, too, gave us 
spirits ; we all appeared to be coming to life again, 
like the silkworm, after lying dormant through the 
winter months. 

And now a letter arrived from Mr. Papeiidiek 
desiring that I would immediately repair to Kew to 
partake of the general joy, saying that he had 
secured me a bed at dear Mrs. Zoffany's, where he 
knew I should be happy. Her daughters were still 
at home, so I did not attempt to trouble her with any 
of my children, but Charlotte, who still suffered from 
her chilblains, I took to my mother's, where she was 
a welcome guest both to her and to my brother. 


With warmth and good nursing she began to get 
better, yet the spring had quite set in before we could 
say she was really well. 

After making all necessary arrangements for my 
other children, I went off to Strand-of-the -Green, 
which was near Kew, where I was most kindly and 
hospitably received by Mrs. Zoffany. 

On March 1 a prayer of thanksgiving for the 
King's recovery was given to each member of the 
household by her Majesty, which was also to be read 
in all the churches of the Metropolis and the suburbs 
on that day. By the following Sunday, there was 
not a private family or a church in the whole of 
England where it had not been offered up. It 
was truly a heartfelt thanksgiving, shared by all his 
Majesty's subjects. 

It was the King's earnest desire to himself offer up 
a pubUc thanksgiving for his recovery, his natural 
reUgious feeUngs being so strong at all times. This 
caused much terror to the Queen and the ministers, 
as they feared that the intense excitement of such a 
proceeding might be very injurious to him. They 
therefore induced him to allow this ceremony to be 
put off for a little while, and it did not take place 
till towards the end of April. 

In the meantime pubHc rejoicings had full vent, 
and a general illumination and great demonstration 
were fixed for March 9. On that morning Mr, 


Papendiek arrived in a chaise to take Mrs. Zoffany 
and myself to see all the preparations. She excused 
herself on account of her children being at home, 
and of her own illuminating diflSculties. I therefore 
started off with Mr. Papendiek alone, he telling Mrs. 
Zoffany that she was not to expect me till she saw 
me, nor to sit up one moment beyond her usual time 
for me, as he thought I should probably remain in 

From Stfand-of-the-Qreen we proceeded through 
the back lanes of Chiswick and part of Hammer- 
smith into the high road, where there was not a 
house, large or small, not a cottage nor the humblest 
dweUing of the poor, but what showed some sign of 
lighting up, even to a rushlight. The Assembly 
House in the Broadway, Hammersmith, was very 
splendid, as was also Hatchett's, the coach- builder, 
who had emblematical devices of his trade in coloured 
lamps placed in each window, with rows of white 
lights round which were to give brilliancy to each 
device. All the houses in Kensington Gore were 
beautifully illuminated also, and at the turnpike an 
arch of great height was thrown over the road from 
Hyde Park Gate to the opposite side, above the two 
toll-houses, the barrier gates being removed. The 
arch was made in sort of steps meeting in the centre, 
and on the two sides, one facing Piccadilly and the 
other the western road, were devices in coloured 


lamps of the crown, star, initials, &c., arranged with 
flags. The lamps were of a kind to keep out rain, 
and each had a reflector, so the efiect was most bril- 
liant. On the railings round the toll-gates were 
flambeaux, which were then in general use, and 
which could be prepared at great expense to bum 
for a long time in rain. Most fortunately it was one 
of the finest spring days, and the evening and night 
like summer. The heat was greatly increased by the 
quantity of lights, and the transition from the 
extreme cold of the four previous months made it 
more remarkable. 

We continued on our way, and the preparations 
were extremely grand. All the churches had flags 
from their steeples and their bells were rung conti- 
nuously from noon on March 9 to sunrise the next 
morning. Eound the tops of the supports of the 
outer gates flambeaux were placed and constantly 
replenished. Piccadilly was well Ughted and St. 
James's Street, White's Clubhouse, to the left, being 
entirely covered with white lamps in elegant taste. 
The crown, star and garter at the extreme top, and 
the initials below, each in appropriate coloured lamps. 
At Brooks's Clubhouse, that of Fox's party, which 
had an extensive frontage and handsome balcony, the 
display was grand, but without device. 

We then reached my father's apartments in St. 
James's, and there found Salomon. After lunch we 


took a hackney coach to go through the city to the 
farthest point, calling for my bcother at St. Bartholo- 
mew's. The India House was covered with trans- 
parencies, very well done, showing every article that 
the Company imported, with a whole-length portrait 
of George m. at the top, with the crown &c., and 
lower down a portrait of Pitt, with his crest and 
arms. The Bank then riveted our attention, but 
my powers of description are inadequate to give 
much idea of its excessive beauty and splendour, 
At the extreme top, very high up, were the King's 
arms, St. George and every part of them being per- 
fectly manifested by lamps and transparencies. Then 
the four orders, with their stars, mottoes, badges, &c., 
equally complete. The whole frontage was covered 
with initials and appropriate devices, the railing 
having a cheval de frise of flambeaux to give addi- 
tional effect and to serve as a barrier to keep the 
crowd off. The glass shops were splendid, and 
the theatres within and without — no performance 
going on, but the doors of course opened. At Exeter 
Change there were transparencies of what each 
counter sold, and of many of the live stock there 
exhibited, with a crown at the top of each, and 
G. E. with the date underneath. This was extremely 
neat and unassuming, and even tasty from its uni- 
formity. We returned up Whitehall, where the 
Army Pay Office was imposing, everything belonging 


to military accoutrements being portrayed by lamps, 
and the Admiralty with their insignia in the same 
descriptive manner. The Duke of Cumberland's 
house in Pall Mall was attractive ; Carlton House 
had the screen only lighted with flambeaux. 

And so we found ourselves again at St. James's, 
where we dined, after seeing the finest specimens of 
art prepared for what obscurity was to make perfect. 
All was finished to a nicety. At one o'clock, noon, 
they began to light, and kept all in the order in- 
tended till sunrise. 

My father arrived at about six o'clock from Kew, 
and told us that the Queen and Princesses were to set 
off at eight o'clock, with their ladies, in Lord 
Aylesbury's and Lord Harcourt's carriages, and a 
third carriage was provided for Lady Charlotte 
Finch, the Misses Qoldsworthy, Burney, and Planta ; 
and my father proposed that we should go with him 
in the postchaise that brought us to town, to await 
the Queen's arrival at Hyde Park Corner, and there 
to fall into her Majesty's cortege. Salomon, my 
mother, and brother accompanied us in a glass 

The Royalties went round the squares, down 
Whitehall, St. James's Street, Pall Mall, and back to 
Kew by twelve o'clock, at which hour Dr. Willis had 
planned that the King should receive her Majesty, 
and lead her to the supper-room. We saw my 


mother and our friends safely into the passage lead- 
ing to her apartments, and then followed the Eoyal 
carriages. As we passed the Assembly House, at 
Hammersmith, they were dancing. No caps or head- 
dresses for the young, but the bandeaux^ either white 
or purple, had embroidered on them in gold letters, 
* God save the King.' The elder ladies wore the 
same on turbans, caps, dress hats, &c. 

On arriving at Kew we all jumped out quickly, 
and the ladies of the third carriage, with myself, Mrs. 
and Miss Tunstall, Mrs. Thomas Willis, and one or 
two more, stood on each side of the Queen's carriage, 
and saw her handed out by my father and Mr. 
Papendiek. The King now met her Majesty, took 
her hand, and led her up to the supper-room, which 
was prepared in one of the front rooms of the house, 
so that from the windows could be seen the illumi- 
nation on the gates of the Queen's House, the space 
between, which was the carriage drive, being suflS- 
ciently extensive to give a good effect to this 
illumination, which had been put up by the Queen's 
express command. 

On the gateposts on either side of the entrance 
gates were the two following verses : 

Our prayers are heard, and Providence restores 
A patriot King to bless Britannia's shores! 
Nor yet to Britain is this bliss confined. 
All Europe hails the friend of human kind. 


If such the general joys, what words can show 
The change to transport from the depth of woe, 
In those permitted to embrace again 
The best of Fathers, Husbands, and of men 1 

The words were in gold letters on a purple ground 
transparency, and above each verse was a purple 
bow with gold ropes twisted to hold it, represented 
by purple and yellow lamps ; the tail pieces were two 
serpents coiling, also in lamps. On the gates them- 
selves were the crown as high as it could be placed, 
with the lion rampant upon it, admirably expressed 
in lamps ; the arms partly in transparency and 
partly in lamps, to give the motto distinct ; the order 
of the Garter with that of the Bath under it ; and on 
either side the orders of the Thistle and of St. Patrick. 
So well were these devices executed that the mottoes 
were perfectly distinct, the stars correct, and the 
ribbons as if they were real. Among these ribbons 
and orders the date was inserted, and G. E. was 
judiciously and conspicuously brought in. The whole 
was very elegant and tasteful, and the King when he 
saw it, on coming to the door to meet her Majesty, 
not only admired it, but expressed his pleasure at 
this token of respect and love. 

In the supper-room, the elder Princesses joined 
their parents, and the three younger Princesses were 
also there, with the Misses Gomm and Moula, to 
receive the King. 

As soon as supper was served his Majesty took 


leave, and was conducted to his apartments by Dr. 
Willis, quiet, composed, and perfectly self-collected, 
although it was the first time he had seen all his 
family, and the attendants, &c., together, and the hour 
was later than he had recently been accustomed to 
be up. 

The following day, as the King was in no degree 
the worse for this trial, the Queen did not hesitate to 
leave him, and proceeded to London again, through 
the city, and wherever were to be seen the wonderful 
works of art and design that were raised up on this 
memorable occasion. 

The illuminations of the public buildings were 
kept aUght for three nights, but the most interest- 
ing part of the sight was, that not one floor of a 
lodging-house was left in darkness ; not a shed, nor 
cellar even ; and this motley respect told more than 
the eflbrts of many of the nobles, who, instead of 
opening their gates and illuminating their houses, 
simply had flambeaux streaming on the tops of the 
walls round the court yards. 

Our object in hurrying on to Kew the preceding 
night, was that my father and Mr. Papendiek should 
be at their posts. They could not, in consequence, 
take me round to Mrs. Zofiany's ; besides, it was a 
pleasure to Mr. Papendiek that I should witness the 
scene which I have just endeavoured to describe. I 
at once went to his room, famished and completely 


tired out, and there Betty Snoswell brought me tea 
and all belonging to that meal in a most inviting way. 
I found that the room was next to Mrs. Willis's, so we 
brought our forces together, and after this pleasant 
meeting, and a most delightful chat, we said adieu 
for the night. I then turned into my quarters, 
where I found paper for curling my hair, combs, 
powder, and all that paraphernalia. But alas, my 
raiment for the night, where was that to be pro- 
cured? Never mind, I managed, and tumbled into 
bed weary but happy. 

The next morning early, I went back to my dear 
friend at Strand-of-the-Green, in the hope of either • 
taking her to see the Queen's illumination, or of per- 
suading her to go to London with Mr. Papendiek 
while I remained to take care of her house. She 
declined both, so we passed the day together in quiet 
rest and pleasant intercourse. 

Mrs. Zoffany then lived in the first of four houses 
near the river, of which the frontage was precisely 
the same, and the residents of these houses made 
their devices of lamps to encompass the four. This 
gave space ; the idea was well imagined, and the 
chaste effect drew the attention of the Queen, whose 
carriage was ordered to stop on the bridge that their 
party might see it. The tide was high, and the 
reflection in the water was almost more beautiful 
than the thing itself. 


The next day I took leave of my friends, Mrs. 
Willis, Miss Bumey, and my aunt and cousins. I also 
saw my father and husband, and poor Betty, from 
whom I parted with grateful thanks ; also Mrs. Meyer 
and her family. 

She told me that she had received letters from 
her son in India, with remittances of 4,000/. in 
return for his outfit. I also heard from her that Miss 
Green's father was going to marry Mrs. Holland, 
a lady of considerable property, on which account 
he had to take the name of Holland. He was now 
dubbed a knight, and afterwards created a baronet, so 
he was married under the name, style, and title 
of Sir Nathaniel Holland. His daughter was much 
disappointed. She was now of an age to un- 
dertake the care of her father's house, and had 
hoped to have been placed in the position of 
head of his establishment about this time. Lady 
Holland, however, acted most kindly and generously 
towards her, and settled upon her 300/. a year to be 
paid free of all stamp duties (which at that time were 
very high), and with no drawbacks. These good 
people enjoyed but a short existence together, in 
the most perfect happiness, and died shortly after 
each other. The husband went first, and then 
Lady Holland added another 100/. to Miss Green's 

Mrs. Meyer now determined upon sending CaroUne 


to Mrs. Roach's, and commissioned me to tell her that 
she would join at the half-quarter before Midsummer. 
The terms were only 20/. per annum, or 25/. if oc- 
casional indulgences were to be expected. Ward, 
who kept the principal academy at Windsor, taught 
writing, and very superiorly so. Dere, from Eeading, 
was the dancing master, Boney was for French, and 
Rodgers for music — all good. History and geography, 
of which only the rudiments could be expected, were 
taught in the school, and English reading, needle- 
work both useful and ornamental, and all other female 
duties, were taught and inculcated in such a manner as 
to be a lasting benefit through life. There were only 
a few boarders, but more day scholars than were 

Mrs. Roach was a woman of strong principles, and 
endeavoured to instil into the minds of her pupils 
truth and sincerity, with kind-heartedness towards 
each other, and as much of religious instruction as 
their tender years could comprehend, showing them 
that it should influence their actions and strengthen 
the moral duties so studiously attended to. My 
daughters profited by this excellent instruction, and 
the strong mind of my little Charlotte, afterwards 
Mrs. Oom, and now Mrs. Planta, received its first 
impressions in this place of education, and her excel- 
lent superior abilities, both as to ornamental acquire- 
ments, female duties, and useful knowledge, 'were 


gained under the guidance of this exemplary woman, 
between whom and myself a lasting friendship 
existed until Mrs. Eoach's death. 

On my return home I found my three Uttle dears 
well, and as I left them. We were now to lose Betsy 
Baker, a girl who had been with me for a few months, 
and who had now obtained a regular situation as 
needlewoman. Her kind heart and good disposition 
gave her a gentle and obUging manner, and she had 
been of the greatest possible comfort to me during 
the dreary winter we had now got over. In return 
I took every pains to initiate her into the habits of a 
gentleman's servant, to teach her every part of useful 
dress, the higher Unes of the laundry, the business of 
the still-room, the store-room, and the general care 
of the Unen. 

My Uttle Frederick was so fond of her that he 
always would sleep with her, and on parting wished 
to make her a present. Among his little treasures 
he had a new sixpence, which he intended to give her, 
and to keep it safe till he saw her, he put it up one 
of his nostrils. Finding it became uncomfortable as 
it was drawn higher and higher by his breathing, he 
came to have it extracted, only just in time to save 
its being a serious, even dangerous, accident. He was 
then just over two years old. I have the sixpence 

On the King's recovery being announced, Baron 


Dillon arrived in England from Ireland, and having 
made the proper inquiries, written his name, and 
made known, according to the usual mode, his con- 
gratulations on the happy event, he came down to 
Windsor. The baron was an intimate friend of the 
Jervois's, and in their house he was lodged. His dress- 
ing room was arranged as a study, where he received 
his friends. He was a truly patriotic man, and had, 
with his sons, of whom he had seven, twice faced the 
rebels in Ireland. The baron was once slightly 
wounded, and one of his sons severely so, which 
unfortunately disfigured his fine face, for they were 
all handsome men. The baron's poor wife died of 

At tlie time that Joseph 11. of Germany was sup- 
pressing the monasteries and otherwise subduing the 
Koman Catholics in his own country, it was proposed 
to enact a law in England which would be very 
detrimental to their interests, and in some instances 
ieven destructive to their pursuits in life. The baron, 
although a strict Protestant, had an equal compassion 
for his fellow-countrymen whether of the same per- 
suasion or not, and had a petition drawn up to point 
out the distress and ill-feeling that such a law must 
occasion ; and this was done so clearly and to the 
purpose that it absolutely had the effect of preventing 
the ill-judged decree. The attention of the Emperor 
Joseph was drawn to the transaction, and on the 


baron's return to Ireland, after coming over to present 
the petition with the proper forms, he conferred the 
title on him of baron of the Holy Roman Empire, to 
be continued to his heirs male, lawfully begotten. 
It was a noble trait on both sides. 

The resource of this amiable man was music. He 
had a sweet tenor voice, which seemed emblematical 
of his mind. He was quite at home with us. I tried 
all his little compositions for him, assisted him to 
copy them, and joined in glees with him, which were 
his delight, and in these Rodgers helped us through 
the absence of Mr. Papendiek. 

The Stowes also were a great amusement to him, 
and between us all I think we made his time among 
us pass pleasantly. He read much, and was always 
planning what he thought might be for the benefit of 
his country. 

A subscription ball and supper at the Town Hall 
was now proposed by the mayor, among other re- 
joicings on the recovery of the King. Tickets were 
to be a guinea, and 10,9. 6rf. for refreshments, which 
only comprehended tea and biscuits. Mrs. Stowe 
excused herself on the plea that she wished first 
to introduce her daughter at Court, which could not 
take place till she was eighteen. I excused myself on 
account of my husband's absence, and also because 
there had been no company yet to visit the Queen. 
The Jervois's and our dear baron regretted but 

VOL. n. G 


approved. I at once offered to help Miss Jervois in 
working her gown, a most beautiful India jaconet 
musUn which was to be embroidered in small sprigs 
and stripes with gold thread. We procured our 
materials at the Golden Ball, then Eyston and Crook's, 
and elegantly did we finish it, singing and reading 
going on, while we worked like slaves, but so merrily 
that we were in the height of enjoyment. 

The faqpn or make was new. The dress round, 
with a small train prettily sloped from the sides ; the 
bodice had the cape with the handkerchief under, 
and the three straps as before. The capes were 
edged with purple and gold cord, and the body was 
laced with gold over a purple stomacher. The words 
*God save the King' were worked in purple and 
gold on the white satin bandeau. Shoes purple satin. 
Her sister, who from delicaie health did not dance, had 
a dress of the same material but not embroidered. 
Mrs. Jervois had a purple silk gown, opened over a 
crape petticoat embroidered in gold. Purple ban- 
deau in her cap, with the motto in gold thread and 
spangles. All the dresses looked remarkably well 
when finished. 

These three colours — purple, gold, and white, 
were almost universally worn at all meetings on 
the recovery, more or less embellished according to 
circumstances. The Town Hall was illuminated ap- 
propriately both within and without, but not mag- 


nificently, and the ball was not a brilliant one in a 
general point of view. 

At Kew everything was proceeding regularly and 
quietly, and no relapses occurred. The King still 
remained in his own apartments, but he dined daily 
with the Queen and the three elder Princesses, with 
their various ladies in waiting. They passed the 
afternoon together, either in the gardens or house, as 
weather permitted, the King gaining strength daily, 
and finding no difficulty in going through the routine 
of business. His Majesty saw the Ministers of the 
Cabinet and others whenever the progress of busi- 
ness required it, and on March 11 he received in 
person an address of the Lords and Commons on his 

Levies and drawing-rooms had not yet been held, 
and the King had not as yet been to London. When it 
was necessary to call a council, they, up to the time 
of which I am writing, had met at Kew, the King 
being present ; but now his Majesty began to wish to 
show himself to the public, and it was decided, with 
Dr. Willis's concurrence, that he should return 
thanks, publicly, to Almighty God for his recovery, 
at St. Paul's Cathedral, on April 23, St. George's 

The Eoyal Family moved to London a few days 
before the ceremony ; but previously to this the 
Princesses had returned to Windsor from Kew, and 

G 2 


the Queen had held a drawing-room during March 
to receive congratulations. 

Meanwhile the arrangements and preparations 
for the public thanksgiving were proceeding. The 
members of both Houses of ParUament were to 
attend in state, and all those who belonged to the 
Cathedral were to be at their respective posts. The 
Archbishops of Canterbury and York were to receive 
the King, and the former, with the assistance of the 
Bishop of London and the Dean of St. Paul's, were to 
do the duty. It was decided that Porteus, the 
Bishop of London, should preach the sermon, and 
that the service should begin at 12 o'clock. 

Mr. Papendiek, anxious that I should see this in- 
teresting sight and partake of the general joy, sum- 
moned me up to town. He had the same lodgings 
that he was in before, at Clarke's, the Queen's foot- 
man, in Eaton Street, PimUco, and he arranged for 
me to go there. Eodgers kindly took charge of my 
boys, and Eliza went with me to town to join her 
sister on a visit to her grandmamma. 

The invitation to Mr. Street's, who had a house 
in the broad, open part of the Strand, opposite 
Somerset House, was the bait. My brother had a 
holiday, and accompanied me, but the hour was too 
early for my mother, as we had to be at our place of 
destination by eight o'clock, besides which, there was 
the necessity of a walk of some distance from the 


carriage to a door at the back of Mr. Street's exten- 
sive premises, which was opened for the accommoda- 
tion of his guests, so she declined the invitation. 

Mr. Street had his two drawing-rooms, with three 
windows in each, prepared with rows of rising seats 
for his friends, many in number. The warehouse 
and hall were prepared in the same manner, but more 
extensively, for his numerous assistants in the busi- 
ness and their friends. For the servants of the com- 
pany a scaffolding was raised outside, with a covering 
in case of rain, and a wooden cheval de frise to keep 
off the pressure of the crowd. No carriage was per- 
mitted to go through those streets along which the 
procession was to pass after a very early hour, and 
we had therefore to walk down a long court to 
the house, after alighting in a back street. The 
weather was unfortunately very showery, which 
did not favour the general appearance of the female 

On our entrance we found tables placed along 
the spare walls of the drawing-room, spread with a 
most elegant breakfast. Tea, coffee, and chocolate ; 
muffins, crumpets, Yorkshire cakes, something of the 
same kind as a Sally-Lunn, which was not then known, 
and another kind of cake which was then greatly in 
request, and is rarely met with now, a roll of dough 
of a thickness to be cut in half, buttered hot, or very 
good eaten plain ; bread of all sorts ; rolls, English, 


French, and German; Kringles, German cake, &c., 
and eggs, neither meat nor fish being then introduced 
as appertaining to breakfast. We all took our meal 
standing, and then ran to the windows, for the pro- 
cession had begun. Three rows of troops, horse and 
foot, lined the streets from St. James's to Temple Bar 
in full uniform. 

First came the Speakers of the two Houses, in 
their state coaches, dress, and wigs ; the Crown 
lawyers the same ; the Peers in the S,S. collar, and 
those who were of either of the four orders of 
knighthood wore their ribbons over the court full- 
dress, with bags and swords ; the Commons also in 
full dress ; the Bishops also in their full dress, lawn 
sleeves, &c. 

The carriages moving slowly, we could easily 
discern who were seated in them. The court or 
state carriages of noblemen and gentlemen were in 
themselves a splendid sight in those days, with their 
fine horses decorated superbly, their dress liveries 
finished well, no expense being spared, and every 
elegant item carefully attended to. Many hackney 
coaches were in the procession, principally containing 
members of the Lower House ; Fox, Sheridan, and 
two others were in one. 

At about 11 o'clock trumpets and kettle-drums 
announced the heralds, who demanded admittance at 
Temple Bar for the King, which, according to the 


recognised form, was refused by the city authorities. 
Very soon after, the King's carriage came in sight, 
and the instruments sounded his approach. Then 
the gates of Temple Bar were thrown open; the 
heralds made the usual request, which was now 
granted, and the Lord Mayor in his robes of state, 
attended by his sheriffs &c. &c. on chargers, pre- 
sented the keys of the city to the ICing, which the 
form directs his Majesty to take, and then imme- 
diately to return to the Lord Mayor. In the first 
carriage, with glass panels, were seated the King and 
Queen, and two ladies. In the next the three Prin- 
cesses and their ladies. Then followed several other 
carriages with the usual attendants in their respec- 
tive styles of dress. 

The King was in the full-dress Windsor uniform, 
blue with red collar and cuffs, gold lace button- 
holes, &c. The Queen, Princesses, and ladies wore 
open gowns of purple silk, edged and finished off 
with gold fringe ; point lace capes and sleeve trim- 
mings ; petticoats of Indian gold muslin over white 
satin, with deep fringes of gold at the bottom. The 
hair was still worn * en ioupSe,' with chignon, and two 
curls at each side pinned ; and a large veil of Indian 
gold muslin was then thrown over the head, and 
pinned * en toque^' being confined by the white satin 
bandeau, on which the motto was embroidered in 
gold letters. This made a thorough covering for the 


head, and fell tastefully over the shoulders. For 
warmth, ermine tippets were worn by the Eoyalty, 
the ladies in waiting having white furs. 

The Lord Mayor conducted the King to the place 
prepai'ed for him in the Cathedral, and then took his 
own seat with his attendants. I was told that the 
service was very impressive, and his Majesty most 
devout, going through the whole ceremony without 
the slightest agitation or undue emotion. When the 
service was concluded, the Lord Mayor escorted the 
King back to his carriage, and the procession returned 
by the same route. 

This was appointed by the Church as a general 
day of thanksgiving throughout the metropolis, but 
the churches and chapels were not filled. Numbers 
were engaged in the procession and in business 
connected with it, others in looking at it, so it 
became, as may be imagined, a general holiday. A 
second special prayer was in consequence sent 
forth, which was to be used all over England at 
morning and evening service for a given number of 

During the interval when the ceremony was pro- 
ceeding at St. Paul's, the movements of the exces- 
sive crowd amused us. Besides which, we filled up 
the time with an excellent repast called luncheon, 
but which was dinner to many. Variety in those 
days was not the leading feature, but plenty, if not 


profusion, was the characteristic. Upon this occa- 
sion there were dishes of veal, ham, and fowls, 
tartlets and cheesecakes, large plum and plain 
cakes, rolls and bread, hot, cold, and dessert wines, 
choice beer, and white soup. Mr. Papendiek joined 
us, which was an unexpected and great addition to 
the pleasures we were enjoying. 

The afternoon was finer than the morning, which 
softened the return when one had fatigue also to 
contend with. 

A new dress was introduced for this day, which 
remained the fashion for the spring — a jacket and 
petticoat of Indian dimity, a material which our 
manufacturers now imitate and call it twilled calico. 
My wardrobe being low, I had two with deep 
flounces of striped Indian jaconet muslin, the jacket 
being laid in plaits to fall round easy, with two 
muslin capes laced down the front with purple ribbon. 
Hair already described, and people of our rank had 
* toques ' of muslin tied under the chin. My bandeau 
was of purple, with a gold motto and handsome 
edges worked by myself. 

After this thanksgiving service, Dr. Willis was 
very anxious that the King, with his family, should, 
in order to keep him in health, and that he should 
gain strength, return to Kew, and remain there till 
the prorogation of Parhament, and then go to the sea- 
side for change of air. This the King objected to. 


and it was true that there were very much greater 
conveniences at Windsor, where the Queen's Lodge 
had been fitted up as a summer residence, the Castle 
for entertainments, and the Lower Lodge for the Prin- 
cesses, with every accommodation for friends around 
them, and for the various attendants, and his Majesty 
strongly urged their returning thither. It was, 
however, finally settled that the Koyal Family should 
first repair to Kew, and there make their plans and 
arrangements for the future. Some alterations were 
necessary to the IQng's apartments at Windsor, to 
do away with such things as would bring certain 
recollections of the past to his mind, and to brighten 
and beautify them, so as to make his surroundings 
give a pleasant turn to his thoughts. 

Dr. Willis had intimated to the Queen that he 
thought it advisable that four of his men should 
remain about the King, two at a time in turn, and it 
was proposed in order to keep the circumstance 
private, that they should be made pages. Now four 
additional pages could not be accommodated in either 
of the Eoyal residences, so it was suggested that 
Kamus and Ernst should retire upon their salaries 
to their apartments at St. James's. They inquired if 
they were to enjoy their perquisites as usual, and the 
answer was that these could not be allowed. They 
thought that after their long and faithful services 
they had a right to expect this consideration, and 


therefore refused the dismissal unless a sum equiva- 
lent to the average amount of perquisites were added 
to their salaries. Again this was not agreed to. 
They blamed Willis for not introducing his men 
under different regulations, and all the pages expos- 
tulated upon this fresh degradation. It was expected 
that after the many months of arduous labour that 
they had gone through, some recognition of their 
fidelity and zealous attention would have been ten- 
dered, if iJot in a manner to speak to futurity of their 
services, at any rate to secure their comforts and 
happiness in the present, but it seemed that this was 
not to be the case. 

This affair disturbed the King a little, and as 
neither party would give in, it was settled that Healey 
and Bowman, who had attended upon his Majesty 
from the time that Dr. Willis was called in, should 
remain as assistant pages, to be constantly about the 
King in turn, with no regular wait. The other two 
were not to be brought forward except in case of 
necessity; Kamus was to remain at the head as 
before, and Ernst was to change his wait with one 
of the old set upon the usual footing. Stillingfleet 
resigned upon his salary. His father, who was gen- 
tleman of the wine-cellar, and now aged, also begged 
to be allowed to retire. He had a fine estate at 
Woodgates in Wiltshire, one stage beyond Salis- 
bury from London, and there both father and son 


established themselves, and greatly improved what 
already was a sweet place. 

The Queen, on taking leave of the younger 
Stillingfleet, the page, urged him now no longer to 
postpone his marriage with Miss Griffiths, particu- 
larly as her mother was now dead. Her Majesty 
thought she would prove an acquisition as companion, 
housekeeper, and nurse, but the young man answered 
that his father had still the same repugnance to the 
match, and that he would not thereforfi at that 
moment propose its taking place, but that he would 
accompany his father down to Wiltshire, and quietly 
feel his way on the subject. 

Grieswell remained as before in constant attend** 
ance at the hours of dressing, and Chamberlain 
returned to town to resume his place in the library 
at the Queen's House, for which a small allowance 
was made to him in addition to his salary as * not 
full page,' the term given to the secondaries. 

On Mr. Papendiek returning to his duty as page to 
the Princess Royal, the King read a letter to him which 
he told him he had long wished to do. It expressed 
that he was to have a grant of Mrs. Carter's house on 
the Castle Hill, the one nearest to the lodge, that the 
garden of it was to be added to that between the 
upper and lower lodges, and that as soon as Parlia- 
ment was dissolved, and Mr. Papendiek ' denizened ' 
to enable him to vote, he was to take possession. 


Meanwhile the house was to be repaired. Mrs. 
Carter had died during the winter, and the house 
had been bought by Government, as it stood on 
Eoyal ground. Those who were interested for us 
felt pleasure in this happy project, but Mr. Papen- 
diek having shown the letter to the Queen on the 
King's giving it to him, her Majesty observed ' that 
the end was incoherent,' and she feared therefore 
that what the first part of the letter promised, would 
be disannulled by the latter. So it unfortunately 
proved, and the house was ultimately given as a 
grant to the Duke of Cambridge. 

The Eoyal Family returned to Windsor soon after 
the beginning of May, when the King resumed his 
former habits of business and appropriation of time, 
except as regarded pubhc days at St. James's, 
drawing-rooms, levees, &c. 

I returned to Windsor a few days after the 
thanksgiving service, with my two little girls, and 
found all well at home. 

On Mr. Papendiek resuming his attendance upon 
the Princess Eoyal, Magnolley retired discontented, 
his attendance from November to May not having 
been even acknowledged with approbation. Mr. 
Papendiek reminded him that he was probably the 
only one who had profited pecuniarily, for he had 
alone enjoyed the perquisites of the Princess's apart- 
ments for three months. Thus ended for the present 


the King's illness and all its concomitant circum- 

Mr. Papendiek's return home was hailed with joy 
by his family, but he felt the loss, for them, of his 
heretofore allowances, and for a time suflfered under 
disappointment and fatigue. 



Concert at the Palace — ^Madame Mara — The organist for Windsor — Mr. 
Forrest — Picture by St. Mark — The Queen^s present to Mrs. Tunstall 
— Ball and supper at Windsor — ^The Prince of Wales in a fume — 
The Duke of York and Colonel Lennox — Sapper in St. Geoige's Hall 
— ^The duel referred to by Dr. Doran — Entertainments given by the 
French and Spanish Ambassadors — Drawing-room on the King's 
birthday — ^Mr. DeLavauz and Mr. Burgess — Death of Mr. Thrale — 
Mrs. Thrale marries Mr. Piozzi — Mrs. Parsloe and Mr. Sykes — ^Party 
at Dr. Aylward's — ^A great success — The Royal Family leave Windsor 
for Lyndhui'st — Ceremony on entering the New Forest — Serious illness 
of Mr. Papendiek — Arrival at Weymouth — ^Their Majesties make 
several excursions — ^The bathing women — ^The Royal Family go to 
Saltram — ^Visit Plymouth — Return to Weymouth and Windsor — 
Theodore Smith— Charlotte has music lessons — Illness of Eliza — 
Frederick goes to school — ^Frederick's pin — Mr. Papendiek returns 
home — ^Looking much altered — Changes in the Royal attendants — The 
brothers Hawkins — Mrs. Papendiek visits the Queen — Mrs. Papen- 
diek stays with her father in London, and then returns home. 

A CONCERT was the first entertainment given at the 
Palace. The St. James's band was added to the 
King's private band, and the singers for the choruses 
were chosen from the Windsor choristers. Mr. and 
Mrs. Harrison, the Messrs. Abrams, Signer Tasca, and 
Madame Mara were also engaged, and the Queen 
begged the latter to direct the arrangement of the 
platform for the orchestra. This was made the entire 


width of the room, with steps the whole length of it, 
and seats at the two ends for the singers when unem- 
ployed, the instrumental performers remaining of 
course in the orchestra, except between the two acts. 

Mara was to sing ' The Prince, unable to conceal 
his pain,' from ' Alexander's Feast,' which she did, as 
before, to perfection. The excitement of listening to 
music was rather feared for the King, but his Majesty, 
with Lady Pembroke at his side (his Queen Esther), 
was very happyj and the concert ended to the plea- 
sure and satisfaction of all concerned in it, and of the 
numbers of invited guests. 

Mara's singing was admirable as usual, and she 
looked well. Her dress was of purple silk, moderately 
trimmed, and she wore her diamonds. The dresses 
of all the ladies were of purple, white, and gold, out 
of compUment to the King. 

Baron Dillon stood behind Mara, and assisted in 
the obbUgato pianoforte parts in many of the choruses 
&c., and Sexton, the deputy organist, presided at the 

The Jervois's, Stowes, and other friends were with 
me in the adjoining rooms, and we were of course all 
highly gratified, for not only was the music of a most 
perfect description, but the beauty of the room, the 
elegant Ughts, and the briUiancy of the company, 
made the sight a very imposing one. 

Refreshments of every kind were set out elegantly 


in the suite of rooms adjoining, and replenished from 
time to time till the end of the evening. 

The return to Windsor, the resumption of his 
former habits, and this first public assembly, excited 
the King a little, but Dr. Willis, finding that his 
Majesty's general health was good, permitted him to 
go on as usual, requesting only that he would desist 
from going out riding or walking in the sun during 
the heat of the day. 

The question of filling the post of organist was 
now brought forward, and many were proposed to the 
King. Finally a friend of the Delavaux's was chosen. 
Dr. Aylward, professor and lecturer of Gresham 
College. He understood the Chapel service well, 
and all the business of an organist. He kept on 
the deputy organist as before, and made the duties 
of singing as easy to the boys and men of the choir 
as could be complied with. 

St. George's Chapel now came under the King's in- 
spection, and the window was put up, and West's altar- 
piece of the Last Supper, which with the addition of 
the side pieces looked remarkably well. Orders were 
given to Mr. Evelyn to repair tlie carved woodwork, 
and to add new where required. Two chairs at the 
altar table were to be done first, and the railing to 
be beautified. His Majesty wished all to be made to 
accord, which, as it had been put up at different times, 
was not the case at present. The King also desired 



to have a painted glass window put in over the western 
door, but the Dean and Prebendaries thought it 
would be better to have the side aisles done first. 

Mr. Jarvis refused to begin another work with Mr. 
Forrest, so the whole matter of their disagreement 
was explained to the King, who blamed Jarvis, and 
gave the command to Forrest to paint the three 
windows, which succeeded admirably. The subjects 
were the Nativity, the Angels appearing to the 
Shepherds, and the Offerings of the Wise Men. A 
new organ was ordered of Green, and the old 
Chapel was to undergo a thorough repair in every 

While this was taking place, and the services 
could not be performed there, prayers were read in 
the Collegiate Library, where there was a portrait of 
our Saviour, handed down as having been painted by 
St. Mark. The Prebendaries in residence used to 
preach at the parish church, and the Royal Family 
had service performed at 8 o'clock in the morning at 
the chapel in the Castle. It was customary for the 
Clerk of the Closet to do duty there, and the King 
usually commanded who was to preach the sermon. 

The Queen gave to Mrs. Tunstall, as a recognition 
of her attentive and kind exertions, a silver tea-urn ; 
and to Mrs. Meyer, for the miniatures, a silver tea- 
pot, milk-pot, and sugar-basin. 

No other gifts that I heard of were presented to 


the household, though all had exerted themselves to 
the utmost during the whole of this trying time. 

The second entertainment given was a ball and 
supper at Windsor, for which occasion all the ac- 
commodation for guests of which the Castle was 
capable was brought into requisition, lodgings being 
also engaged in the town, that none of those noble- 
men who had been staunch in their allegiance and 
friendship should be omitted in the invitations, which 
were very numerous. 

The Eoyal entertainments always commenced at 
eight o'clock, and at about seven the Prince of Wales 
came down in a great fume, desiring to see the 
Queen. Her Majesty was dressing, but as soon as 
possible his Eoyal Highness was admitted. The 
object of his visit was to desire the Queen not to 
receive Colonel Lennox at the ball, he having that 
morning fought a duel with the Duke of York. 

Her Majesty, as soon as she was assured that 
neither of them was hurt, answered that until the 
King had been informed of the affair and had com- 
manded the course that was to be pursued, it was not 
in her power to act. The Queen did not at once go 
over to the Castle, but remained at the Lodge until 
Mr. Pitt should arrive, when he was immediately 
ordered to her presence, and requested by her 
Majesty to break the intelligence to the King and 
to let her know his decision in the matter. 

II 2 



This he did, and the King desired that all was to 
proceed as if no such thing had occurred. Upon 
this the Prince of Wales returned to town, exaspe- 
rated at his Majesty's command. 

The delay which this affair occasioned caused great 
anxiety among the assembled company, as may be 
imagined, but on the appearance of the Royal Family, 
with the King looking well, all was delight, and danc- 
ing was at once begun, and kept up to a late hour 
with great spirit and hilarity. 

The dress was purple and gold for those ladies 
who did not dance, and for the dancers white, with 
purple and gold trimmings, the gowns being made 
round, with a small slope from four to six inches on 
the ground as train, which did not impede the move- 
ments in dancing. 

The supper was in St. George's Hall, the table for 
the Royal Family being across the upper end, up the 
steps, two long tables down each side, the entire 
length of the hall, being arranged for the guests. 
The gallery at the lower end, supported by those 
fine statues of a black and his three sons, was set 
apart for music, the King's private band performing 
during the supper to relieve those who played for 
the dance. 

In this gallery also, we and our friends, with 
many others, had places as spectators. The whole 
effect was enchanting. The new gold service of plate 


was used for the first time, and the salvers and cups 
were peculiarly elegant. They were ornamented 
with serpents twisted round in a tasteful manner, and 
made in shining and mat gold, which raised the 
scales in relief, and made the reptiles look fearfully 
real. The two mouths met at the top, and from 
them the beverage was poured. 

The supper was most recherchSy and there were 
several ornamental dishes such as I had never seen 
before. Temples in barley sugar four feet high, and 
oiher devices introducing the motto and emblema- 
tical of peace and joy, were among the most conspi- 
cuous ornaments of the table, and all the viands were 
of the most elegant description. There were ar- 
ranged on the table jellies of all colours and shapes, 
creams, cakes, fruit, pies of all sorts, including cray- 
fish pies (new to me), tartlets, &c., and hot dishes 
with appropriate vegetables, and white soup, were 
handed round to all the company seated at the tables, 
in number at least 200. 

The duel was already talked about, and canvassed 
with a good deal of party spirit and malignancy. 
The Duchess of Gordon would not take wine with 
Lord Thurlow, who, notwithstanding his strong asse- 
veration in the House of Lords so short a time before, 
was now wavering in his opinions. 

The King and Queen retired on returning from 
the hall after the supper was concluded, the younger 


Princesses having left the assembly before supper. 
The elder Princesses now resumed the dance, and did 
not retire till nearly four o'clock. 

[The particulars of the duel between the Duke of 
York and Colonel Lennox, so briefly alluded to by 
Mrs. Papendiek, are given by Dr. Doran in the 
following words : 

. ' The second son of Queen Charlotte delivered 
his maiden speech in the House of Lords at 
the close of 1788. A few months later he made 
another speech in private society which might have 
had a very fatal issue. He stated that Colonel- 
Lennox (afterwards Duke of Richmond) had been 
addressed in Daubigny's Club in language to which no 
gentleman would have quietly listened as the Colonel 
had done. The latter, on parade, asked for an ex- 
planation. The Duke refused, ordered him to his 
post, and offered him " satisfaction " if he felt him- 
self aggrieved. The Colonel appealed to the club as 
to whether the members adopted the Duke's state- 
ment. They remained silent, and the result was a 
duel on Wimbledon Common, on May 26, 1789. 
Lord Eawdon accompanied the Duke, and the Earl 
of Winchelsea attended on the Colonel. The duel 
ended with no bloodier finale than the loss of a curl 
on the part of the Duke. The latter, it was found, 
had not fired ; he refused to fire, bade the Colonel 
fire again if he were not satisfied, and rejected every 


inducement held out to him to make some explana- 
tion. On this the parties separated. 

* Some littleness of spirit was exhibited in what 
followed. The Colonel was present at a court ball, 
at which the Queen presided, and formed part in 
a country dance of which the Prince of Wales and 
other members of the Royal Family were also a por- 
tion. The Prince, who was remarkable for his gal- 
lantry, did not exhibit that quaUty on the present 
occasion. He passed over the Colonel and the lady 
his partner without "turning" the latter, as the laws 
•of contre-danse required. The Prince's conduct was 
imitated by both his brothers and sisters, and the 
Colonel's partner was thus subjected to most un- 
warrantable insult.' — Ed.] 

After this entertainment, the French and Spanish 
Ambassadors gave theirs ; the former at his residence 
in one of the Squares — I think Portman Square — the 
latter, who lived in Great George Street, in the corner 
house next to the Park, where he had no suitable suite 
of rooms, gave his invitations to Eanelagh. The ball at 
the French embassy was a most perfect entertainment, 
at which there was every elegance that the imagina- 
tion can form, and in the illumination of the house 
the Jleur-de- lis was introduced. The Rotunda at Rane- 
lagh afforded ample space for dancing, cards, and a 
promenade. The two first tiers of boxes were devoted 
to refreshments and supper for the company, and the 


third and upper tiers were set apart for the accommo- 
dation of spectators, who were admitted by invitation 
or by tickets. For them were also provided refresh- 
ments of tea, cakes, and negus. The illuminations 
within and without were something seldom seen. 

These two balls surpassed everything of the kind 
that was given at this time of rejoicing. As a com- 
pliment to the host of both these entertainments, 
anything emblematical of their respective countries 
that could possibly be introduced in the dress of the 
ladies, was added by them to the costume for the 
recovery, and the gentlemen wore the full dress 
Windsor uniform. 

The name of the French Ambassador I cannot 
recollect, but the Spanish Ambassador was the 
Marquis del Campo, whom I have before mentioned 
as having gone down to Windsor at the time that the 
King was shot at, to prevent her Majesty's hearing 
the news abruptly. No other very remarkable fes- 
tivity was given, but there were many smaller parties 
amongst friends, and a general reaction after the long 
and dreary winter and universal depression of spirits. 

On the King's birthday the drawing-room was 
crowded. Members of both parties attended, and 
all political ill-feeling seemed for the moment to be 
set aside. 

In many instances the motto was studded in 
diamonds on a purple ground, and the eflect was 


most brilliant. This was the last occasion upon 
which it was expected to be worn. 

The King appeared in the throne-room to hear 
the Ode, and to receive the blessing of the bishops, 
but his Majesty did not attend the drawing-room. 

There was no court ball in the evening, and the 
Royal Family after dinner returned to Kew, having 
left Windsor a short time before this auspicious day. 
Miss Sandys had resumed her place when the family 
first went to Windsor after the recovery, and all the 
ladies and attendants had now fallen back into their 
old quarters. 

As I heard of entertainments likely to be given 
after the first grand concert, I summoned my cousin 
for a month, who was able to respond happily, and 
she enjoyed with us many of the little parties given 
by our friends to which I have just alluded. 

On one particular day when we were preparing 
our dress for an evening party at the Jervois's, Mr. 
Delavaux called in a great bustle to see Mr. Papen- 
diek, who was not at home. After much persuasion 
Mr. Delavaux told me that he wished to find out if we 
would give a home to a Mr. Burgess and two pupils 
aged seven and five, who were designed for Eton, and 
wfere looking about for a suitable residence. Certainly 
our house was well situated, but I strongly argued 
against accommodating them. However, old Dela- 
vaux managed to get hold of Mr. Papendiek, and the 


business was settled. For the small sum of 1 30/. a year 
they were to be lodged and take aU their meals with 
me, but I only would consent to taking them on con- 
dition that I was not to be tied at home, or prevented 
receiving and visiting my friends. 

We hired a lad, which was absolutely neces- 
sary for attendance on these people, and I had to 
make sundry alterations in my arrangements. We 
had two small bedsteads made to fit the recesses in 
the front room for the two boys, which, with the rest 
of the furniture, were made at home, and we bought 
a tent bedstead complete for Mr. Burgess, of Smith, 
the upholsterer. This and the bedding for the other 
two cost about 30/., and all other requisites we made 
perfect. The two pretty little rooms next the draw- 
ing-room possessed every convenience, and our new 
inmates were much pleased with their accommoda- 
tion. They entered at midsummer, and though the 
Jervois's and the Baron gave me every encouragement, 
I think upon the whole that it rather lowered us in 
the opinion of the acquaintance we had formed. 

About this time Mr. Thrale, the great porter 
brewer, and member for Southwark, died, leaving to 
his widow the brewery and 50,000/., and to each of 
five daughters the same sum. 

An Italian artist of mediocre talent taught the 
young ladies to sing, and for the purpose of improve- 
ment Mrs. Thrale took her three eldest daughters to 


Italy, leaving the two younger with Mrs. Kay and 
Mrs. Fry, with whom they remained until their edu- 
cation was completed. By agreement this man, 
whose name was Pio:2zi, met them in Italy, when a 
marriage took place between him and Mrs. Thrale. 

On the return of the party to England these 
three daughters demanded their fortunes, and Mrs. 
Piozzi's finances were shaken a little by having to 
sell out of the funds at a great loss, and selling the 
brewery at a still greater. Previously to her second 
marriage Mrs. Piozzi had been known in the hterary 
world. She still continued to write and to publish 
her writings, but they ho longer carried with them 
the same interest. Her friends and the public ceased 
to respect her, and she soon fell into obUvion. Where 
she lived, and whether now alive or dead, I cannot 
tell. Her mother was a renowned classic scholar, 
and the daughter, when stiU Mrs. Thrale, the same. 
The latter possessed very superior abilities and great 
judgment ; she managed her family and household 
with industry and economy, took the trouble of the 
business off Mr. Thrale's hands, and educated her 
children at home. She was a religious, charitable, 
and good woman, and how she became infatuated 
with a person not even eminent in his profession, 
after maintaining a rectitude of conduct for so many 
years, is not to be defined. 

Carohne Meyer arrived at Mrs. Eoach's, but find- 


ing no companion to her taste, she did not settle well. 
Her abilities for useful knowledge were superior, but 
for ornamental accomphshments she had no taste, 
nor was her temper amiable. I tried to show her 
kindness when I could, and I think she did improve 
under Mrs. Eoach's care, and gained a little softness 
in her manner. 

A good deal of talk was raised in the town by a 
disgraceful circumstance which occurred about this 
time. An officer in the regiment quartered at Windsor, 
of the name of Parsloe, had a wife of uncommon 
beauty both of face and figure. She used to sit upon 
the terrace morning and evening, and appeared to be 
lounging about at all times for admiration. The King 
asked the husband if he did not fear to allow her to 
be out of his sight, to which he answered that he 
must attend to his business, but that he never left 
her without her sister or a companion. 

A young man of the name of Sykes, whose father 
had recently acquired a fortune, came to Windsor 
under a bet that he would carry off Mrs. Parsloe. He 
began by introducing daily driving out in parties, 
and on one morning he asked the captain to hand 
his wife into his phaeton, and then drove off, saying, 
' I will call for the sister, and you can follow after 
parade.' Alas, she never returned ! The damages 
were moderate, the husband having put the wife into 
the carriage. Whether Captain Parsloe did not feel 


the affair very deeply, or whether he only affected 
to carry it off with a high hand, no one could rightly 
say, but although he must have been mortified by the 
circumstance, he appeared to many to be released 
from a care by his wife having quitted him. She 
had no children. 

The new organist, Dr. Aylward's, house now being 
in order, he asked the canons if they would honour 
him with their company at the house-warming, to 
which they replied with an acceptance. An evening 
was fixed when the Royal Family were to be at Kew 
for a couple of days, so that the doctor might have 
the benefit of such of the band as were required for 
the accompaniment of Handel's overtures &c. 

The invitation was general to those who had wel- 
comed him to his situation, with the exception of the 
Delavaux's, who could not be asked to meet the dig- 
nitaries. They carried their pretensions so high that 
this omission greatly annoyed them, and Dr. Ayl- 
ward was obliged to ask Fischer to call and explain 
matters. He did so, and endeavoured to make them 
see how kindly they had been treated in the neigh- 
bourhood and in their business, and how impossible 
it was that they could always be received upon an 
equality. This quieted them for the moment, but 
they never lost an opportunity of pushing themselves 
forward when they could. 

The doctor asked me to assist his housekeeper in 


making the requisite arrangements* for this party, 
which I was very pleased to do. The house was in 
the singing men's cloisters. The large room with the 
organ and harpsichord was of course set apart for 
the music, the dining-room for refreshments, and ' 
the study for cloaks, instrument cases, &c. ; tea to be 
handed as the company arrived. 

The concert was good. The singing was by the 
gentlemen of the choir and the leading boys, with 
Eodgers to lead and accompany them with the assis- 
tance of Sexton the sub-organist, Mr. Papendiek and 
Baron Dillon joining in many of the catches and glees. 
Miss Stowe played the second concerto of Handel on 
the harpsichord, and all the music was excellently 

The evening was altogether a success, the refresh- 
ments good, with plenty of the doctor's excellent 
wine for the clergymen, and a regular supper for the 
performers ; and all the arrangements for the comfort 
and pleasure of the company being carefully attended 
to, everybody retired well satisfied. 

The next day Mrs. Fischer called upon me to thank 
me for the entertainment of the evening before, 
knowing that I had assisted in the arrangements, and 
saying that they were not accustomed to meet with 
such elegance at private parties, nor to be gratified 
with music suited to every taste. She admired my 
dress, which was of muslin not transparent, a new 


Scotch manufacture, chequered, made round with a 
short train, a small jacket, and broad sash pinned in 
a peak in front, and handkerchief under a small cape. 
I had it new for the King's birthday, 4th of June, and 
it is the same in which I afterwards sat to Lawrence 
for my portrait. Mrs. Fischer also complimented me 
about my attention to my sweet children, and other 
things. In fact, at this moment everything connected 
with us was perfect in her eyes. 

Mr. Papendiek was now at the Lodge to receive 
the Royal Family on their return from their two days* 
absence at Kew, during which space he had obtained 
leave to remain at home, the Queen having highly 
approved of the motive for which Mr. Papendiek had 
asked for this permission. 

During more than a month past, preparations had 
been making for the removal of the Royal Family to 
the seaside for change of air. As Miss Sandys could 
not or would not dress hair, and as the Queen did 
not want Sonardi and his ' lady' to follow her at such 
a heavy expense as the last time, she appointed 
Duncan as her hairdresser, a man who had been 
recommended to her Majesty by some of her ladies. 

All was now ready for their departure to Wey- 
mouth in the first instance, and the extension of 
their travels if all went on well, and early in July 
the whole family left Windsor for Lyndhurst, where 
they were to make their first halt, and where they 


were able to be accommodated by Mr. Eose, Eanger 
of the New Forest, Hants, in the house he occupied 
as belonging to the appointment. The Eoyal party 
consisted of the King, Queen, and three elder Prin- 
cesses ; Kamus, Bowman, Grieswell, my father, Mr. 
Papendiek, and Duncan ; Misses Bumey and Planta, 
Sandys and Mackenthum ; two equerries, a lady for 
the Queen, and one for the Princesses. 

Before arriving at Lyndhurst, on entering the 
New Forest, the ceremony of presenting the King 
with two snow-white greyhounds, decorated with 
ribbons, was gone through. It was an old feudal 
custom or law of the forest, and was a curious and 
pretty sight, crowds of the inhabitants of the neigh- 
bourhood collecting to witness it. 

At Lyndhurst they were to remain one week, 
and delighted indeed they were with the exquisitely 
beautiful country round — new to them. 

Poor Mr. Papendiek fell ill the first day, and on 
the third day the medical attendant desired to know 
how his patient was situated with respect to family, 
for he feared it was a case of doubtful recovery. The 
Queen wished him to be immediately removed, but 
to this Mr. Papendiek decidedly objected, as did also 
the medical attendants. He said he had given us 
his blessing at parting, and now recommended us to 
her Majesty's protection, not being in any other way 
able to provide for us. 


Whether the extremity of the case roused him, 
or from some other cause not distinctly accounted 
for, Mr. Papendiek rose up, and then made such 
rapid progress towards recovery that he was able to 
rejoin the Eoyal Family at Weymouth on the day 
originally appointed for their arrival at that place, 
the tenth after their departure from Windsor. 

The Duke of Gloucester had lent his house at 
Weymouth to the King, and with the addition of 
four houses adjoining, engaged for the three months, 
the accommodation for the Eoyal party and their 
attendants was very comfortable. These houses di- 
vided Gloucester Lodge from the principal hotel, 
Stacy's, situated opposite the esplanade, the high 
road running between that and the row of houses. 

Four regiments were quartered in different parts 
of the town and adjacent country, and there were 
three frigates in the Bay, in one of which, the 
Southampton^ commanded by Captain Douglas, the 
Eoyal Family sailed on fine days, the other two often 
accompanying the Southampton with friends on board. 
The Magnificent^ a fine man-of-war, was stationed at 
the entrance of the Bay during the whole time of 
the King's stay at Weymouth. 

The King and Eoyal Family attended the theatre 
several times, when Quick and Mrs. Wells performed 
in comedy admirably, but there were no other actors 
of any note till Mrs. Siddons, who was staying at 

VOL. 11. I 


Weymouth for her health, was prevailed upon to 
play 'Lady Townly/ and afterwards the part of 
* Mrs. Oakley/ as neither the King nor Queen were 
fond of tragedy. The performance was not equal to 
her usual acting, as comedy was not her line, though 
it is needless to add that Mrs. Siddons could do 
nothing badly. 

Their Majesties made several excursions into the 
neighbouring country, sometimes by land and some- 
times by sea, and there was a great sense of freedom 
and enjoyment over the whole party, added to much 
gratitude for the steady improvement in the King's 
health. The public showed much good feeling and 
pleasure at their beloved monarch's recovery, who 
was gratified by the immense crowds that turned out 
upon every occasion to see him, not only at Wey- 
mouth, but all along the route thither. ' God save 
the King ' was in every mouth, sung by the hoarsest 
voices, and played by the crackiest bands, but with 
a lustiness and heartiness that proved the intensity 
of their loyalty. The men and children in the 
streets had a bandeau with the motto round their 
hats and caps, and the very bathing women wore 
girdles with the words in large letters round their 
large waists ! 

[Miss Burney in a letter to her father corrobo- 
rates this intense loyalty. 'His Majesty,' she says, 
' is in delightful health and much improved spirits . 


All agree he never looked better. The loyalty of 
this place is excessive ; they have dressed out every 
street with labels of " God save the King ; " all the 
shops have it over their doors ; all the children wear 
it in their caps, all the labourers in their hats, and 
all the sailors in their voices^ for they never approach 
the house without shouting it aloud, nor see the 
King, or his shadow, without beginning to huzza, and 
going on to three cheers. 

' The bathing machines make it their motto over 
all their windows ; and those bathers that belong to 
the Royal dippers wear it in bandeaux on their 
bonnets, to go into the sea; and have it again in 
large letters round their waists, to encounter the 
waves. Flannel dresses tucked up, and no shoes 
nor stockings, with bandeaux and girdles, have a 
most singular appearance, and when first I surveyed 
these loyal nymphs it was with some difficulty I kept 
my features in order. 

' Nor is this all. Think but of the surprise of his 
Majesty, when, the first time of his bathing, he had 
no sooner popped his Eoyal head under water than 
a band of music, concealed in a neighbouring ma- 
chine, struck up " God save Great George our 
King." '—Ed.] 

After the settled time for remaining at Weymouth 
was over, the family and suite repaired to Saltram, 
the seat of Lord Barrington, where they stayed a 

I 2 


month. They saw everything of interest in Plymouth 
Harbour, and sailed about to visit the admired spots 
of the coast of Devonshire, to their great gratification, 
besides going over the Dockyard, where everything 
was minutely inspected. A grand naval review took 
place during his Majesty's visit, and all was done to 
render his stay in this neighbourhood agreeable. 
The same manifestations of loyalty were exhibited at 
every place where the Royal Family stopped, and all 
along the route. 

After the time specified for this stay at Saltram 
they returned to Weymouth, and then immediately 
began their homeward journey. 

On the way back to Windsor they stopped at 
Longleat, in Wiltshire, the beautiful seat of the 
Marquis of Bath, and then at Tottenham Park, in 
Wiltshire, the seat of Lord Ailesbury, whence, 
after remaining a couple of days to rest, they pro- 
ceeded direct to Windsor, which was reached 
about the middle of September — I do not recollect 
the exact date — after an enjoyable and successful 

When my husband left Windsor with the Eoyal 
Family, my mother came down to me for a few days, 
bringing my sister, who remained with me till the 
term recommenced at Mrs. Eoach's. Miss Meyer 
and the Zofianys also returned, but my friend could 
not be prevailed upon to remain with me, as she was 


now expecting Mr. Zoffany's return from India 
almost daily. 

Little Charlotte went back with her grandmamma, 
where she again met Theodore Smith, who called 
upon my mother by chance after an interval of some 
years. His profession was music, and he lived by 
teaching the pianoforte and singing. 

He had married a most beautiful woman some 
few years back ; an actress whom he taught to sing. 
Everybody blamed him for the choice he had made, 
fearing a result which indeed very soon happened. 
A Mr. Bishop took her off, and when the first shock 
had subsided, he prevailed upon Smith to accept a 
sum of money and be silent, for his wife would never 
return to him, and he (Bishop) would marry her. 
Smith told my mother, to her surprise, that he taught 
music in a school where Miss Bishop, the daughter, 
was, for the sake of seeing Mrs. Bishop, who some- 
times came into the schoolroom, and this he con- 
tinued to do as long as a master was required. 

Returning from this school, which was at the 
corner of Chiswick Lane, he usually called in, took 
his tea with my mother and brother, and gave little 
Charlotte a lesson. This was the first time she had 
shown any liking for music. Smith taught her as a 
child, and made it playful to her, and soon dis- 
covered talent. His duets and easy pieces, composed 
by him upon known and famihar airs, she soon 


caught, and surprised us with her improvement most 

Eliza, very soon after her father left us, fell ill 
with an inflammatory cough. The medicines not 
acting as Dr. Mingay hoped, made him fear it would 
turn to whooping cough, and he advised me to send 
my poor little girl to Eodgers', where she was well 
accommodated and taken care of. By the doctor's 
advice also, I hired a httle chaise from the Mews, 
with four wheels, a close back, and apron in front, 
which had been the Princesses'. In this she was 
daily to be drawn up to the shade in the Home Park, 
or Long Walk, to gain benefit from the air and 
amusement from the little jaunts. She was to be 
well fed, and everything nourishing was given to her, 
including ass's milk, of which she had a small tum- 
bler every morning. After about six weeks she 
returned home, no sign of whooping cough having 
manifested itself, though I cannot say the same about 
danger. We continued the same regimen, and she 
gradually gained strength, but being naturally a 
deUcate child, this illness pulled her down greatly. 

Frederick, after the holidays, went unexpectedly 
to school. The cause of this step was that Mi's. For- 
rest, who now assisted her husband in burning the 
glass, putting in the backgrounds to his pictures, &c., 
found that she could not devote herself to her httle 
boy, now two years old, as she wished ; and she told 


me that she had found a most respectable school in 
Datchet Lane, where she thought of sending her 
child daily, and she asked me to allow Frederick to 
join him as his companion. This was decided upon, 
and thither, at sixpence a week, did these two dear 
boys go. 

I did not like the idea of it, but, wonderful to say, 
the woman who kept the school was really superior 
in her line, and taught the children to read and spell 
well. She told me that Frederick had such an ex- 
cellent ear that he very quickly caught the sound of 
the words ; and she was greatly pleased and surprised 
at his obedience and knowledge of good behaviour. 
So strong a feeling of what was right had he that he 
was greatly annoyed when the other children in the 
school were refractory, and he used to get up from 
his seat and push the boys, and prick the girls with 
a pin, which he took care always to have ready. Al- 
though this chastisement of the other children called 
for reprimand to himself, he was always disturbed at 
their naughtiness, and generally contrived to set it 
right, never forgetting the pin. 

Poor little Georgy was now cutting his teeth, 
which made him very fretfiil, and he gave no sign 
of wishing to try to walk. As he grew he became 
handsome as a child, and his eyes, brows, and lashes 
were beautiful. 

Having heard from Mr. Papendiek that they 


were now travelling homewards, I deemed it advis- 
able to let him know what had been taking place in his 
absence. The Queen always inquired about us, and on 
hearing my account of EUza she desired Mr. Papendiek 
to return home from Longleat if he found he could 
be spared. This was easily managed, for on the 
King's account no entertainments took place where 
the Eoyal Family visited, only family parties to make 
it cheerful, so Mr. Papendiek was not really wanted 
so much. 

Having seen all that was interesting at this fine 
old place, therefore, Mr. Papendiek set off for home, 
and surprised us greatly by his unexpected return. 
I was sorry to see him so altered. He had grown 
fat, looked bloated and red -faced from being so 
constantly in the air, and his nice figure and pleasing 
face seemed gone. Till then I had not heard the 
extent of his illness at starting, and I conclude that 
tlio great change in him was caused by the invigo- 
rating sea air after his confinement to his bed, and 
after emerging from the close and fatiguing atten- 
dance upon the King for so many months. 

He brought home four gown pieces, one of a 
very pretty green, with a small pattern of a darker 
shade, another with a white ground and small 
bunches of convolvulus over it, and two dark ones. 
I made four morning frocks for winter, one each for 
my four babies ; the other two we gave to our two 


servants. I then heard all the anecdotes of the 
absent time, and Mr. Papendiek told me of many 
proposed changes in the future. 

An order had been sent round to every person 
holding an appointment in the Castle, and also to all 
those who had the grant of apartments, to repair to 
them, if possible, to meet the commands of the King. 
The Duke of Montague, Governor of the Round 
Tower, pleaded inability from age and infirmity, but 
the Earl of Courtown, Deputy Governor, with his 
family, immediately obeyed, and took possession of 
their house in the garden of the Tower, at the foot 
of the stairs, and opposite to those which led down 
to the north side of the terrace, then open to the 
public. Here the Courtowns remained till all their 
sons were provided for, either in the army, the navy, 
or the church. They had no daughters. The 
Egertons in the North-East Tower, and the Walsing- 
hams in the Southern Quadrangle, also obeyed the 
summons, and some of the Canons who were not in 
residence. A house of the King's, the first in High 
Street, was given to the Queen's footman, Clarke, and 
his family, the Duke of Cambridge's house still 
remaining unoccupied. 

Several changes among the attendants now took 
place. Mr. Brown was made King's page in lieu of 
Stillingfleet, and Mr. Clement succeeded Brown as page 
to the younger Princesses. This Clement had been a 


faithful attendant of old Dr. Majendie, who now found 
himself sinking, and solicited the Queen to provide 
for the man and his family, as he was unable to do 
so. He was a 'worthy man, but, from his corpulency 
and age, very inactive, and scarcely a proper person 
for his new post. Mr. Brown came in according to 
rule as junior page, but the King made him also 
'page of the bedchamber,' to fill up the vacancy 
caused by Hetherington's death, which had occurred 
a short time before. The apartments allotted to him 
were those between the King's kitchen and the Duke 
of Clarence's house. 

Hawkins, the surgeon, and his brother had oc- 
cupied the rooms now given to Brown almost from 
the commencement of the reign of George HI., as a 
town residence, to be near the Royal children. The 
order to quit them, therefore, was heartrending. 
They were now ordered back to Kew, to occupy the 
house we had, between which and the one given to 
the Duke of Cumberland they had several times been 
moved backwards and forwards. 

One brother gave up the residence altogether, 
and returned to London to practise, retaining his 
salary as surgeon to the King. The other brother 
died about two years after, having been for some 
time in weak health, in that room looking to the 
garden, which we called the painting room. His 
grandson, Dr. Mott, was afterwards one of the 


instructors of Princess Charlotte, and was dismissed 
upon the idea that her Royal Highness's letters to 
him in the way of instruction were too enthusiastic. 

The day after the Eoyal Family arrived at the 
Lodge I went up to see them all, and acquainted the 
Queen with the nature of Eliza's cough and conse- 
quent illness. Her Majesty said she was always 
anxious about whooping cough, and dreaded it 
principally on Princess Amelia's account, who had 
returned from a six weeks' stay at Eastbourne but 
a short time before. I did not, therefore, show my 
little girl at the Lodge this time. 

I then went for a short visit to Kensington with 
my father, and took Frederick with me, but as Dr. 
Mingay wished to keep Eliza under his eye and did 
not think a change advisable, I left her in Mr. 
Papendiek's care, who was so fond of his children 
that I knew she would be well looked after. 

The weather was still very fine, the children no 
trouble, and my stay was most enjoyable. The 
walking in those sweet gardens of Kensington, the 
social pool at quadrille of an evening, the pleasure 
of my brother's company, and the happiness of our 
being together again, all made this hohday of near 
a fortnight appear like hours instead of days. After 
this I returned home with my children, where 
happiness again awaited me, for we were once more 
all together. 



Preparations for the winter — ^Memorial from the Eing*8 band — Nephews 
of Dr. Herschel — Ball at the Caatle — Discomfiture of Mr. Kamus — 
Present from the King of Naples — King Poniatowski — Mr. Papendiek 
accomplished in Polish music and dancing — Sir Thomas Lawrence — 
His youthful days — Portraits of Lady Cremorne and others — Intro- 
duced to the Queen — Portrait of the Queen — Difficulties — Bridge- 
tower — Mr. Jervois — Misunderstandings — Mr. Zoffiuiy on his return 
from India — Mrs. Stowe and the Carbonels — Concerted music — 
Duet with Eodgers — Mrs. Papendiek's remark on seeing the Queen's 
picture — ^The Queen refuses to give Lawrence another sitting — ^Law- 
rence was not paid — ^The portrait sold after his death — Miss Folstone, 
afterwards Mrs. Mee — Her history — Pleasant little coterie — Lawrence 
takes Mrs. Papendiek's portrait — Dinner at the Herschels — Un- 
pleasant walk — Dr. Lind, Mrs. Lind — ^Mrs. Delany — ^Princess 
Elizabeth copies her drawings — Charlotte shows talent for music, 
Elizabeth for drawing — History of Dr. Thackaray — His death — The 
Queen assists Mrs. Thackaray — Mrs. Papendiek goes to town — Dif- 
ficulties with Bridgetower. 

I NOW began to prepare for the winter. Stuff petti- 
coats, warm and soft, two coloured frocks open in 
front, so that the little girls could almost dress them- 
selves. Four white frocks ; and this year, new dark 
blue greatcoats of ladies' cloth, with two rows of 
very small yellow-knobbed buttons down the front. 
Their straw bonnets cleaned, now again looked 
almost new, and were lined and trimmed with lus- 


tring (now termed gros de Naples) of the same 
colour. The boys had the finest Bath coating of the 
same blue, and black beaver hats. Dear little things, 
they looked beautiful I 

Events crowded now upon each other. 

The first of moment was a memorial drawn up 
by the King's band to request permission to have 
musical parties of a morning at friends' houses by 
subscription, and this was to be presented by Mr. 
Papendiek. As he never proceeded in anything 
without first naming it to the Queen, of course in 
this instance that was his first step. Her Majesty 
took the paper, and thinking it not an unreasonable 
request, she said she would herself give it to the 

He, however, at once refused, upon the ground 
that they would not rest here, and said that he would 
allow them to attend no meeting where they would 
receive payment, except in such cases when his 
Majesty ordered them to perform. One hundred 
pounds had originally been their stipend, but on 
giving up their house 30/. had been added, and 25/. 
for the Ancient Music Concerts, of which twelve were 
held during the winter. They also had each four 
suits of clothes, and everything appertaining to their 
profession — fine instruments, and able masters to in- 
struct them when required. They went to London 
regularly for a certain number of weeks' residence 


during the season, and after June 4 they returned to 
Windsor, so that they were put to no expense of 
moving to and fro, and being stationary at each place 
for the time being, they had many days to themselves. 
One can understand that having been encouraged by 
their patrons to look forward to this indulgence they 
were disappointed at its being refused to them, 
tliough they had not any real grievance. 

The Griesbachs, in particular, were quite roused. 
As Dr. HerscheFs nephews they determined on going 
nowhere unless accompanied by their wives ; but the 
Doctor soon settled that, saying that if they chose to 
marry under circumstances so straitened tliey must 
content themselves with their lot. No one could or 
would be disposed to receive them so encumbered, 
and by refusing to oblige friends with their talents, 
they would soon be forgotten, and lose any means 
they might obtain through them of assisting their 

The next event was a ball given at the Castle to 
welcome the wanderers who had returned by com- 
piand to their respective residences, and to invite 
those where the Eoyal Family had visited, with many 
others. The dresses for the dancers had a little more 
purple in them, otherwise they remained much the 
same as before. 

Mrs. Montagu and I went to the Music Gallery as 
usual, and wliile there, Mr. Kamus came up like a 


fury to upbraid us for taking such a liberty. In vain 
did we tell him that we had acted only on former 
privileges, and as others were there besides our- 
selves, I could not see that we had done wrong. 

He then attacked Mr. Papendiek, who had 
scarcely known that we were there. How or why 
this arose I cannot tell ; suffice it to say that it made 
me quite ill. I was confined to my room for a week, 
and was much reduced. 

This circumstance was inquired into, and other 
disagreeable occurrences combined with it led to 
the discomfiture of Kamus. The Delavauxs not 
being able to make anything of him now took up 
Mr. Brown, of which we all remember the sequel — 
his marriage with the younger sister. 

After the magnificent baU and supper, St. George's 
Hall was prepared for the display of the dessert ser- 
vice, sent as a present to the King on his recovery 
by the King of Naples, who was married to the 
second daughter of Maria Theresa, sister of Joseph 
n. of Germany, and of Marie Antoinette, Queen 
of the French. 

The service was enormously large as to the 
number of pieces, and very magnificent. The plateau 
was of looking-glass, with a small figure in the centre 
of the Emperor of Rome upon a throne extremely 
elevated, and surrounded by his courtiers and the 
usual pageantry, all executed in fine white marble. 


The edge was finely wrought in silver gilt and ara- 
besque paintings, leaving spaces for the dishes, which 
were of white china. On these and on eight dozen 
plates were painted views of Italy ; landscapes, build- 
ings, palaces, ruins, &c., not two alike. Four dozen 
more were of a kind of crystallised glass with patterns 
of flowers round the edge; the ice pails and dishes 
for fruits in juice being of the same, and beautifully 
ornamented with representations of insects &c. 

Besides these, there were cake baskets, a mixture 
of china and glass, of extreme elegance and lightness, 
finger glasses, goblets, glasses, coolers, and every- 
thing that could possibly be required. The cases for 
this magnificent service were covered in morocco 
leather and lined with white Genoa velvet. The 
public were allowed admission to view this present 
for three days, and they flocked to St. George's Hall 
in numbers. 

Mr. Papendiek, ever ahve to kindness, asked the 
Queen if some attention should not be shown to the 
gentlemen who brought over this offering. Her 
Majesty said that a gift of money was the usual 
return, and in this instance 500/. instead of 300Z. 
would be given, as the moment was an anxious one, 
and the bringing of the service had been a hazardous 
undertaking, for the French Ee volution had just 
then seriously broken out. In addition to this, the 
gentlemen were lodged free of expense for three days. 


I cannot recollect that the dessert service was ever 
used in its entireness. Portions of it were con- 
stantly put out, but the King never could bear to 
see anything relating to or that reminded him of his 
unfortunate illness. 

At this exhibition I was introduced by Dr. Her- 
schel to General Kamazuski, who had fought in the 
ever- memorable battle of the Poles for their liberty 
and their king, Poniatowski. The latter had been 
placed on the throne of Poland by the Empress 
Catherine, and hurled from it by the jealousy of 
Potemkin. General Kamazuski contrived to escape 
with the greater part of his property to England, 
where he lived until France became again at peace 
with us. He was introduced to Dr. Herschel through 
the Eoyal Society, in the hope of his being able to 
be privately presented to the King, but under the 
circumstance of his being in opposition to the will of 
the Empress, with whom we were on terms of peace, 
this could not be done. 

A few days after this introduction Mrs. Herschel 
and Sukey White came to fetch me, saying that the 
general had taken a great fancy to me. Whether I 
looked interesting after my illness, or that my bonnet 
was becoming (the one in which I sat to Lawrence), 
or that he was struck at my endeavours to interest 
him in the service of dessert, to the display of which 
I took my three elder sweet children, who were 

VOL. n. K 


greatly admired by him, I cannot tell. At any rate 
I went, and spent three days most happily at Slough, 
the last of which Charlotte passed with us. I learnt 
and played this amiable man's Polish hornpipes and 
dances, sang with him, and being of a lively disposi- 
tion, I felt that I assisted to make these little familiar 
meetings agreeable to a foreigner. Mr. Papendiek 
dined with us one day, which greatly contributed to 
the gaiety, for he was particularly clever in Polish 
music and dancing. He accompanied himself on the 
guitar, singing and dancing at the same time, and 
amused us greatly by the way he thrust the instru- 
ment into a side pocket when requiring his hands to 
meet his partner, real or supposed. 

After this short but very pleasant visit, I returned 
home, and found all well. Mr. Papendiek, both at 
Windsor and London, always slept at home, however 
late he might be detained, as he could not bear to be 
away from me or his beloved children, who in return 
doted on him. 

The great prodigy of the day had now arrived at 
Windsor, and everyone was anxious to see this self- 
taught wonder. The Queen was to sit to him for her 
portrait, and he was to have an apartment in the 
Castle for his work and accommodation, taking his 
meals at the Lodge. This interesting young man, 
Thomas Lawrence, had not been introduced to the 


visiting classes, as his origin did not warrant it till he 
had made his own name. 

He was the son of an innkeeper at Devizes, who 
married clandestinely a teacher at a boarding-school, 
who was a woman of taste and abiUty, amiable, and 
well looking both as to figure and face. She educated 
her five children herself, and ultimately the eldest 
son went into the Church ; the second never regularly 
settled to any profession ; the two girls both did 
well, one of them painting flowers superiorly; and 
Thomas, the youngest, was the pet lamb of the 

The mother taught them their own language well, 
and gave them a fondness for reading. The British 
classics were their study, with the best publications 
of the day, and young Lawrence had a marvellous 
memory and quite a talent for recitation, with a 
sweet musical voice as a child, and could quote 
readily from Milton and Shakespeare, whose plays he 
illustrated with sketches giving strong expression to 
the various characters as he conceived them. In- 
deed, for all his reading he made appropriate draw- 
ings, and these at last began to attract notice. 

Generals Garth and Manners, when travelling to 
Bath, stopped at Devizes, and while their dinner was 
being got ready they played a game at billiards, by 
the encouragement of their host, old Lawrence. 
Thomas was the marker, and engaged their attention, 

K 2 


his little table in the corner, with his books and 
drawings, striking them particularly. They inquired 
minutely into his sentiment for art, and asked to be 
allowed to take away with them some of his perfor- 
mances, promising to bring them back on their return 
journey. This both Thomas Lawrence and his father 
were very glad to do, and when the generals returned 
they gave him their address in London, in case he 
should ever come up. 

Not very long after this occurrence the father 
became bankrupt, and as it was his second failure he 
determined to leave Devizes and see what London 
could do for himself and family. Young Lawrence 
availed himself of the kind permission of the gentle- 
men already referred to, and called upon them. As, 
unfortunately, the King was just then in his iUness, 
they could not introduce him to the great patron of 
all arts, but they took him to Lady Cremorne, who 
was a universal encourager of merit, and her ladyship 
sat to Lawrence for her portrait, a full-length one. 
He followed the example of Vandyke, and dressed 
her in a high dress of black velvet with long sleeves, 
Vandyke collar and cuffs, and no cap. The picture 
was exhibited that season, and was favourably com- 
mented upon. 

Lady Cremorne introduced this young artist to 
the first Marchioness of Abercorn, a most amiable 
woman, and soon he was quite an intimate in their 


family. He took the likenesses of the younger 
branches in coloured chalk drawings, and painted 
whole-length portraits of the two elder sons in one 
picture, in Vandyke dresses. This was exhibited the 
following year with equal success. 

The Abercoms, being extremely fond of getting 
up private theatricals for their amusement, gave 
Lawrence many opportunities of being useful to 
them, in return for their kindness to him, and of 
displaying his general taste. He had many intro- 
ductions through these kind friends, and amongst 
others to the Siddons family and the Kembles. Here 
he frequently saw Maria Siddons rehearse her favourite 
character of ' Emilia Galotti,' in which she was to 
appear for the first time the following winter for her 
mother's first benefit, and Lawrence certainly became 
enamoured of her. It was said to be a most perfect 
piece of acting. 

On his being eventually brought to the Queen by 
Lady Cremorne, her Majesty was rather averse to 
sitting to him, saying that she had not recovered 
suflSciently from all the trouble and anxiety she had 
gone through to give so young an artist a fair chance, 
more particularly as he saw her for the first time. It 
was, however, settled that it should be tried. The 
first difficulty arose about the dress, the Queen choos- 
ing a dove colour, which with her sallowish com- 
plexion was most unbecoming. Secondly, the head 


dress. Neither the bonnet, cap, nor hat that she 
proposed were to his taste, and this ended in her 
deciding upon having no covering at all upon her 

When the King came to look at the portrait this 
disgusted him, as her Majesty had never been so seen. 
West suggested a light scarf to be thrown over the 
shoulders, which broke the stiffness and plainness of 
the gown, but the difficulty about th.e head still re- 

Lawrence requested the Queen to converse now 
and then with the Princesses, to give animation to 
the countenance, but her Majesty thought that rather 
presuming, and continued to listen to one of them 

The poor young fellow was naturally inexperienced 
in the ways of a Court, and the manner in which her 
Majesty treated him was not with her usual kind com- 
miseration. West did not help the matter, as he did 
not care to encourage too many of his own art about 
the King, and the portrait was not quite the suc- 
cess it should have been. 

About this time an adventurer of the name of' 
Bridgetower, a black, came to Windsor, with a view 
of introducing his son, a most prepossessing lad of 
ten or twelve years old, and a fine violin player. He 
was commanded by their Majesties to perform at the 
Lodge, when he played a concerto of Viotti's and a 


quartett of Haydn's, whose pupil he called himself. 
Both father and son pleased greatly. The one for his 
talent and modest bearing, the other for his fascinat- 
ing manner, elegance, expertness in all languages, 
beauty of person, and taste in dress. He seemed to 
win the good opinion of every one, and was courted 
by all and entreated to join in society ; but he held 
back with the intention of giving a benefit concert at 
the Town Hall, 

Mr. Jervois insisted upon the Bridgetowers 
coming to him after the boy had played at the 
Lodge, as he wished to hear him before he took 
tickets or interested himself in the business. Charles 
Griesbach and Neebour had promised to come to assist 
in the performance, but there was to be no audience 
beyond the regular set or squad — ^Papendieks, Stowes, 
and Mingays. After supper the music-room was 
ready, and then the father would not let his son 

Mr. Jervois blamed us ; the party broke up ; and 
I leave my readers to feel for us all. Dear Baron 
Dillon expostulated, and I hoped brought the Jervois's 
round to believe that we could not have had any 
decided influence in the matter, or anything really to 
do with it. They did not break with us, but were 
never quite the same to us after. 

The concert was notified, the evening named. 
Tickets were to be seven shillings each, or four in one 


family for a guinea, which jvas then the current coin, 
our present sovereign, of the value of 20^., not having 
been coined till about 1815 or 1816. 

The Eoyal interest was sohcited, and their Majesties 
approved, the King giving permission to his band to 
assist, according to the request of the Bridgetowers. 
This they one and all refused to do, on the plea of his 
Majesty not having granted their petition. Upon tlie 
same consideration, neither could the King command 
them, as he himself would not be present. 

Mr. Papendiek, ever alive to kind-hearted feeUngs, 
said at once, * Then I will give the concert at my house, 
having a tolerable sized room.' The ladies of the 
Lodge attended, and many of those I have already 
named as friends and acquaintances. No money was 
demanded, of course, but the circumstances of the 
affair being known, this question was left to the 
generosity of those who came to hear this wonderful 
young performer. 

Lawrence was upon this occasion introduced to me 
by Mr. Papendiek, who brought him to the house, as 
was also Madame de Lafitte, and the two Miss Folstones, 
who were with her, the younger of whom was a 
sweet girl of sixteen, with a fine tall sUm figure, a 
pretty face, and her light hair hanging down her 
back, as was then the fashion. She wore a small 
evening hat of white chip, trimmed with white, and 
a light-blue satin gown with a long train, and white 


petticoats. The two sisters were dressed alike ; the 
elder was the * mentoria,' evidently. 

As our house was opened to admit all those who 
requested tickets under the usual restrictions, when 
Mrs. Bannister (the mother of Mrs. Grape, whose 
husband was a Minor Canon of Eton and the vicar of 
Clewer) expressed a wish to attend the concert with 
her daughter, no objection could be made. The mother 
in her younger days was the wife of the principal 
butcher in Windsor, but becoming a widow early and 
being left witli considerable property, she lived in 
retirement to bring up her daughter. Strange as it 
may appear, she was a clever woman, and from the 
extreme refinement of her mind, and amiable qualities, 
she possessed naturally, both in manner and appear- 
ance, an air of good breeding which many far above 
her in station would have given anything to attain. 

No one else in any way peculiarly remarkable 
was at this meeting except Mr. Zoflany, who surprised 
us at dinner. He had only recently returned from 
India, whither he had gone so many years before. 

We could but be rejoiced at his return, although 
sorry to see him so changed, for during the voyage 
home he had been seized with an attack of paralysis, 
from which he certainly never thoroughly recovered. 
During dinner we began to explain to him the nature 
of the evening's amusement, but he told us that he 
had heard all about it at Mrs. Eoach's, where he had 


called to see his daughters on alighting from the 

To our surprise, we saw the Stowes drive up to the 
Jervois's in Mr. Carboners carriage, they having gone 
on a visit to him at Anchorwyke House, Egham, to 
remain till this concert was over. 

Mrs. Stowe had agreed with me that, as money 
would be taken, we did not think it would be right 
for her daughters to play, and if they were in the 
room people would not be satisfied if they did not 
take a part in the performance. 

Judge of my further surprise on receiving a note 
from Mrs. Stowe to say that the Carbonels were most 
anxious to hear the boy Bridgetower play, and would 
attend with the Stowes, but not without them. I 
answered that all our arrangements were made upon 
their first decision, and that I could not now alter 
them, favoured as we should be by the addition of 
the Carbonels' presence. 

In a second note I proposed that the latter family 
should come with Mrs. Stowe, leaving the girls at the 
Jervois's, they having dechned to be present. To this 
they would not agree, and so the matter dropped. 
Mr. Papendiek was vexed and severe ; Zoffany ex- 
tremely satirical upon the whole affair ; and, as may 
be easily inferred, I was tired and agitated by my 
exertions, and became almost hysterical. 

There was no time to be lost, and in the occupa- 


tion of getting all completed by the time appointed, I 
recovered my power of action, and went through the 
whole evening with credit to myself under the con- 
tinued sarcasm of Zoffany and the very few smiles of 
approbation from Mr. Papendiek. 

To make out a concert without the assistance of 
the King's band, who all continued steadfastly to re- 
fuse to play, even when it was decided that the concert 
was to be held at our house, was somewhat difficult. 
We began with a flute quartett, performed by Mr. 
Papendiek, Forrest, old Eodgers, and Charles Bostock, 
which went very well. Then followed a long glee sung 
by Salmon, Gore, Gale, and the Eodgers, father and 
son. During this performance Mr. Papendiek went 
over and compelled Mr. Jervois to come, leaving the 
ladies to spend the evening together. 

Young Bridgetower now played the concerto 
of Viotti, Mr. Papendiek taking the part of second 
vioHn, Forrest the flute, old Eodgers tenor, Charles 
Bostock and Gore violoncello, young Eodgers being 
at the pianoforte with the score, to lead, so 
we made it out tolerably well. The young per- 
former played to perfection, with a clear, good 
tone, spirit, pathos, and good taste. Jervois was 
now pleased enough. The first act ended with sing- 
ing. Baron Dillon and I assisted, and several pretty 
things were sung, Dr. Herschel accompanying on the 


B^freshments were provided up and down stairs, 
tea having been previously handed as the company 
entered, and during the interval between the two acts, 
many availed themselves of this opportunity to move 
about and talk with their friends. 

The younger Rodgers had previously asked me to 
introduce him as a pianoforte player, wishing to give 
lessons on that instrument in future. We had in 
consequence practised together dementi's Duet in C, 
then recently published, and with this we opened 
the second act. By Kodgers also the instrument 
was now tuned, so in both capacities we brought 
him into notice. 

Our little girls and the Blagroves, Mr. Burgess' 
two young pupils, did not find much accommodation 
in the room, for I could not give them seats as I had 
not invited Zoflany's children. To have had them 
and all my young friends from Mrs. Roach's would 
have been to give away too many non-paying seats. 

Little Fred always went about his own way, and 
took care of himself. He sat on the ground in front 
of the sofa the greater part of the evening, and when 
he saw the maid looking for him to take him to bed, 
he quietly slipped under. While I was playing the 
duet with Rodgers he sat on the ground between us, 
after which that dear little soul kissed us and went 
off to bed. The duet, which we played without a 
fault, pleased greatly, and was followed by more 


singing, and Bridgetower's two quartetts and a 
symphony to finish made a long second act. Then 
we again had refreshments, and supper in the par- 
lour for the performers. Over this meal we had a 
pleasant chat. Kalph West Bridgetower (as he was 
named) was most fascinating ; young Lawrence ele- 
gant and handsome, and very attentive. My dress 
was the muslin round dress with jacket and train, a 
chip hat hned and trimmed with mazarine blue 
satin. It became me, and I know that I looked 

Twenty- five guineas Mr. Papendiek put into 
Bridgetower's hand, taking nothing from Mr. Jervois 
as he compelled him to come. The ladies being gone 
I went to bed, after making arrangements for 
Zoflany, but the gentlemen made a merry evening 
of it. 

This led to my going with Mr. Papendiek to 
see the Queen's picture. Having heard much of 
the difficulty about the head-dress, I remarked on 
seeing the scarf thrown over the shoulders, 'Why 
not have brought it over the head ? There would 
be covering enough.' Lawrence was pleased with 
the idea, and immediately made a tasteful sketch 
of it. 

He implored the Queen to give him one more sit- 
ting. The drapery was finished, and by just putting 
on the ornaments as her Majesty wished to have them 


for a few minutes, he could sketch in their outline and 
finish them afterwards. 

She refused. She said it would be troublesome 
to have Sonardi down to dress her and adjust the 
scarf or veil ; and although Duncan dressed very 
neatly, and did weU as Robinson's partner, he had no 
taste, and was no hand at arranging anything beyond 
the common art of hairdressing. 

The Princesses were hurt and sorry, for they had 
hoped to have sat to Lawrence quite as earnestly as 
he had hoped for that honour, and the loss of their 
favour and patronage was a great blow to the poor 
young man. 

Eventually, through the interest and intervention 
of their Eoyal Highnesses, the Queen permitted me 
to wear the bracelets and a brooch to hold the scarf. 
Miss Bumey, with Mr. Papendiek, brought them to 
the Castle and put them on, Mr. Papendiek taking 
them back to the Lodge at a given hour. 

Thus ended the visit of Lawrence to the Castle. 
No money was paid. He remained until the new 
year, working up the picture and finishing it ofi*, and 
then the King told him to remove it to town and 
have it engraved. When that was done the portrait 
was to be sent to Hanover, and then the King pro- 
posed to pay. But Lawrence had no money, and 
could not risk the engraving at his own expense. 

The picture therefore remained in his studio or 


show-room in Gerrard Street, Soho, whither he had 
removed it at the King's command, and was sold with 
others after his death. The picture is not thought a 
good one, but to my mind the likeness is stronger 
than any I recollect, and is very interesting. Law- 
rence was lodged and boarded while this work was 
going on, but that was all the encouragement and 
reward he in his early days gained from Eoyalty. 

The visit of Miss Folstone to this country at the 
same time may in some degree have interrupted the 
success of Lawrence, for she and her sister were 
placed to lodge and board with Madame de Lafitte, 
who was herself a Dutch emigrie with a son and 
daughter, under the Queen's protection, with an 
allowance of 300/. a year and a house in the Cloisters 
free of expense. 

To benefit both parties, therefore, and to give an 
asylum to the young ladies, Madame was given the 
charge of them, and when she went to the Lodge 
daily to read German with the Princesses, one or 
other of the six, and even the Queen herself, could 
sit for their miniatures to Miss Folstone without 
inconvenience or difficulty, whereas dressing pur- 
posely and going over to the Castle was attended 
with both. 

Yet I must confess that as it was intended to 
give patronage to Lawrence a swell as to Miss Fol- 
stone, and to consider the visit as one of charitable 


intention, equal favour should have been shown to 

Her history was also interesting. Her father was 
a portrait painter of small whole lengths, and of that 
class who make a circuit during the summer months 
to those places which at certain seasons are preferred. 
A guinea the piece, or less, rather than lose a sitter, 
was taken. 

On returning from one of these excursions he fell 
ill, and died within a few days, leaving a widow and 
not less than seven children totally unprovided for. 
This, his second daughter, had always been the 
little companion of her father, had mixed his colours, 
prepared his palette, and put in the background to the 
canvas, ready for his portraits. Having for her 
amusement constantly tried to take likenesses of her 
family, she now turned her thoughts to making a 
trial of her abilities, hoping to bring them into use 
for the benefit of her family. How she has succeeded 
her name of Mee will attest. She brought up seven 
children entirely by her own exertions, four sons and 
three daughters, in the most creditable way. She 
was introduced to the Queen by Lady Courtown, 
through Lady Cremorne, and at different times through 
life she attended the Royal family to take their 

It so happened that her youngest son Arthur was 
articled to Mr. Soane, the architect, at the same time 


as my son Charles, and they continued friends until 
the death of the latter. Mrs. Mee's daughters, Mrs. 
Thomas Fuller and Mrs. Burgess, are intimately 
acquainted with my youngest daughter, Augusta 
Arbuthnot, and indeed the whole of the Mee family 
have always been friends with all of us. 

The concert we had for young Bridgetower we 
considered our winter party, and had the pianoforte 
removed to the parlour. 

Mr. Papendiek seeing that the whist playing of 
Lawrence in the pages' room* which was far superior 
to the ordinary, was not carried on in a manner strictly 
honourable towards him, gave him permission to come 
down to us of an evening whenever he found it acrree- 
able. Of this permission he availed himself constantly, 
and West, the President of the Academy, with his 
eldest son Kalph, also frequently dropped in. The 
Stowes and Bridgetower too, and one or two other 
friends, would sometimes join us without ceremony, 
so we had a pleasant little cotene. 

When we wished to fill up the time with music, I 
sent for Rodgers ; otherwise we read, worked, or had 
a game at cards It was during these evenings that 
Lawrence drew those beautiful drawings in burnt 
paper pencils. One of the heads West copied two 
or three times over in his groups of angels in one or 
more of the cartoons that he prepared for the windows 
of St. George's Cliapel, now being painted by Forrest. 



Some of these drawings I gave to my friends as 
keepsakes, others my second son George took with 
him to Russia, and only two are remaining to us — a 
caricature of Lawrence himself, and one of Mr. Papen- 
diek, now in Augusta's possession. 

Going one morning to the Castle to sit for the 
jewels at a quarter-past nine, the hour fixed, and 
finding ourselves disappointed of them, Lawrence 
proposed taking a sketch of me, which he politely 
said had long been his desire, and now a fair oppor- 
tunity presented itself. I had on a black beaver 
hat with a gold band, as then worn, but he objected 
to it, and would have the black bonnet. 

I had to run home to put this on, and he asked 
me to bring back Fred, * that particularly handsome 
boy,' who, dear little fellow, was pleased to go with 
me. He took his letters and soldiers to play with, 
and was no trouble ; and when Lawrence wished him 
to stand a few minutes for his likeness, he was only 
too happy to be cuddled up by me. 

Three or four sittings finished the drawing, which 
Mrs. Planta, my eldest daughter, now has. It was 
considered by all my family and friends an excellent 
likeness, and it is certainly a very well executed 
drawing, though only so slight a sketch and so quickly 

' This portrait, an engraving of which forms the frontispiece to the 
first volume, is now in my possession. — Ed. 


An invitation to dinner was sent to us by the 
Herschels, to meet Dr. and Mrs. Fischer, and Dr. and 
Mrs. Lind, while Kamazuski, and Sukey White were 
still staying there on a visit. Before sending an 
answer, I asked Mr. Papendiek how we were to get 
there and back. He determined upon accepting it, 
and said that as he could only go in the evening, I 
should either dress there, or contrive something ; he 
should walk, and we could return with some of the 
company who would have a conveyance home. 

I strongly objected to this arrangement, and wanted 
either to have a carriage or stay at home. But no ; 
we were to go, and in that ungentlemanlike manner. 

I had had my puce satin once more put in order 
for the winter, with gauze capes and white satin 
trimmings, and this gown I wore upon this occa_ 

I had carelessly read the note of invitation, and 
knowing that the Doctor always did remain at Slough 
during the winter, to be on the spot for his observa- 
tions, I took it for granted that they were there now, 
so took the stage to that place. 

On arriving there I was told that the family was 
at Upton, when the coachman said, 'No matter, it is 
not dark, and I will put you down where you will 
have only one field to walk through.' 

I well knew it, and what a long one it was. How- 
ever, there was no help for it, so I started off. 

L 2 


I had to pass through a small inclosure, which I 
thought was for the cows during the night, but I 
descried a bull among them, and down I fell' from 
terror and the damp, slippery ground. 

At last I reached the house safely, but saw at 
once that my coming in that manner was not expected. 
In dear Sukey White's room I put myself tidy, and 
bathed my hand and arm, which were much swollen 
from the fall, and in great pain. A glass of wine re- 
vived me, and the dinner went off well, although it 
was evident that the Fischers had adopted the line 
of conduct I have before mentioned. Mr. Papendiek 
arrived, and to return, the Linds offered to take us, 
but the Doctor walked with Mr. Papendiek, and the 
chaise went their pace till we had passed the College 
at Eton, when the Doctor got in. Thus shabbily 
ended this invitation, which the Herschels did not 

Dr. Lind had recently taken the house imme- 
diately opposite the Long Walk at Windsor, which 
had shortly before been occupied by Dr. Thackaray, 
a physician. Dr. Lind intended to follow the same 
profession. He had an electrifying machine, called 
himself a botanist, and had been round the world 
with Sir Joseph Banks and Dr. Solander, but his 
knowledge was too frothy, and he never succeeded. 
Eventually he obtained from the Queen an allowance 
for winding up her clocks and watches, upon wliich 


he, with his youngest daughter, now Mrs. Gossett, 
scantily subsisted . He was introduced to Dr. Hers- 
chel by his particular friend Mr. Cavallo, of the Eoyal 

Dr. Lind had married a very fine young woman 
who was needlewoman and everything to the Duchess 
of Portland at Bulstrode. Poor thing, the change 
was great ; and though it might seem to be a rise for 
her at first, she was deceived in this. Her comforts 
were gone, and she had no indulgences to make up 
for them. 

She had three daughters, two of whom were after- 
wards married, Mrs. Markham Sherville and Mrs. 
Burney. Then she lost her health and her con- 
sciousness, and during that time her son was born, 
apparently still, but the doctor inflated the lungs 
and he lived. The Queen eventually procured for 
him a writership in the East Indies. The poor 
mother never recovered her senses so as to be of any 
real use to her family, and died a few years after her 
son's birth. 

On the Duchess of Portland's death the King in- 
vited her friend and companion, Mrs. Delany, to live 
at Windsor. His Majesty had the house between 
Mr. Montagu's and Dr. Heberden's fitted up for her, 
and allowed this amiable and agreeable woman 300/. 
a year, and her humble assistant, Mrs. Agnew, 50/., 
with this sole condition, that she was to attend at the 


Lodge either in sickness or in health, whenever called 

However, while Mrs. Delany lived she was never 
once called upon for her services, but remained a 
sincere and valued friend of the King and Royal 
Family. This grant was made almost immediately 
after the death of the Duchess in 1785, and poor 
Mrs. Delany only lived three or four years to enjoy it. 

During her residence at Bulstrode she had copied 
the botanical plants at that place, and had written a 
description of their use and origin. Princess Eliza- 
beth profited greatly by these drawings, which nearly, 
if not quite, equalled those of Mr. Banner at Kew. 

In copying Mrs. Delany's drawings and study- 
ing the paintings of flowers from nature, under the 
guidance of this gifted person, the Princess formed 
the idea of painting the furniture for the saloon at 
Buckingham House. It was done on white velvet, 
in groups of flowers, and the borders in single sprigs 
or wreaths according to the part it was for. The 
Princess Royal at the same time copied the engravings 
from jEsop's fables in pen and ink on the same mate- 
rial, which afterwards furnished a room at Frogmore. 

The Lodge party was now greatly increased in 
numbers, and Mrs. Papendiek was sometimes honoured 
with their company to a little music, at which the 
Wilsons, Mr. and Miss Douglas, Mr. and Miss Hallum, 
and my other artistic friends would join. 


Our dear children were constantly among them 
all, and their tastes were insensibly formed. Char- 
lotte soon developed a decided turn for music, while 
the opportunities of seeing various kinds of drawings 
at our house, and the fine collection of pictures at 
President West's, gave Eliza a taste for that art in 
preference to music. As soon as we thought her old 
enough, we gave her every opportunity of instruc- 
tion, but from her very dehcate health and early 
seizure of disease, she had neither power or time to 
bring her abilities to any perfection. 

As the family of the Thackarays, whom I have 
casually mentioned, became in process of time con- 
nected with us, and as I think their history interest- 
ing, I will give it. 

Dr. Thackaray was enamoured of a young lady, 
the only child of a widower, and proposed marriage 
to her, but the father refused his consent. They 
therefore married clandestinely, venturing, as many 
do, on a sure hope of future forgiveness, but in this 
case they were disappointed. The father would 
never see them, nor allow them to be mentioned in 
his presence. 

They came to Windsor, an amiable couple, 
young, handsome, and with all those endearing 
qualities that at once gain credit with the world. 
He was eminent in his profession, and followed it 
with an attention and benevolence that made every 


one desirous of assisting him by their recommenda- 

Seven children were born to them, four sons and 
three daughters, and the youngest, Louisa, was but 
an infant when her father fell ill of a fever, and died 
in a very few days. Advice was at hand — Heberden, 
Mingay, the household and other apotliecaries and 
physicians, but they at once prepared tlie poor wife 
for the worst, the constitution being too weak and 
too much exhausted to admit of the proper remedies. 

Friends undertook to intercede with Mrs. Thacka- 
ray's father for assistance and forgiveness, but he was 
inexorable. Tliey repeated their entreaties from 
absolute necessity. He then consented to take his 
daughter home again with her children if she would 
resume her maiden name. She thought this might 
be done by herself and her daughters, but with her 
sons, how could it be possible ? The eldest was on 
the foundation at Eton, and the second was a mid- 
shipman in the navy. Here, then, the negotiation 
ended, and nothing was done by the father to soothe 
the affliction of this distressed family. 

Dr. Majendie, who had succeeded to a Pre- 
bendary's stall on the death of his father, and Dr. 
Fischer represented this case to the Queen, telUng 
her Majesty that they were agreed among themselves 
always to find a home for this distressed lady in one of 
the vacant Prebendaries' houses, of which there were 


always one or two, but they could not provide an 
annuity. The Queen agreed to allow 400/. a year, 
but in return for it, Mrs. Thackaray was to under- 
take the management of the Queen's schools. Every- 
thing was sold that could be parted with, and ar- 
rangements were made by these really charitable 
friends to defray the necessary expenses attendant 
upon death, and to place the widow with her chil- 
dren clear of anxiety in their new abode. 

This circumstance occurred in the spring of 
this year, 1789. Madame de Lafitte educated the 
daughters, and many lent a helping hand. Indeed 
tlirough life did this family experience the same kind 
friendship on all sides. 

I now went to town for a few days to see my 
mother and brother, and finding that the Herschels 
were also going to London, I took a seat in the 
afternoon post coach, contrary to my usual custom 
of travelling in the morning, in order to accompany 

I was much surprised, when taken up, to find 
Bridgetower in the coach. He said he was going to 
engage lodgings, preparatory to their setthng in town 
for the winter. I knew the Herschels would not like 
being in his company, but it was a public coach 
and nothing could be done, so we proceeded all 
together. At the * White Horse Cellar ' 1 urged 
the Herschels to take a hackney coach and see me 


safe to my mother's ; but no, they went on by the 
same conveyance to Paternoster Kow, and I pro- 
ceeded alone to St. James's. 

In the dark passages in the Palace, that black, 
Bridgetower, suddenly presented himself, under the 
desire of being introduced to my father and mother. 
I told him that my parents from age and ailments 
did not allow these freedoms to their children, and I 
entreated him not to trouble me, as the door on the 
staircase where we stood led to the public apart- 
ments of the Palace, and, as I was generally known, 
I should not like to be so seen. He then said he 
wanted to borrow a little money. I took my purse 
out quickly and gave him all I had, a guinea and 
a half, and begged he would not attempt to call, as 
he would not be admitted. I watched him safely 
away, and then ran quickly to my home. 

I dared not tell my father, as he was angry 
enough about our exertions at the concert, observing 
that he knew from experience that no foreigner who 
asks anything from one, ever returns one's aid either 
in gratitude or kind. 

We passed our time happily among ourselves, 
first having a pleasant tea, and afterwards a pool 
at quadrille, poor old Pohl joining us, then our 
punch and politics. Back to Windsor after two or 
three days. My little girls were on a visit to Mrs. 
Koach ; my boys I had left at home, being now 


reconciled to their new nursery maid — a woman of 
about thirty, sister of Froude, the pawnbroker in 
High Street ; respectable people. 

On my return, Bridgetower called, having pre- 
viously sent the money, so he was straightforward 
enough in this instance, but I told him in Mr. Papen- 
diek's presence never again to ask us to lend money, 
for we had already done what we could. I added that 
he must not conclude that the whole of the 25/. put 
into his hands after the concert had been received 
for tickets. He, of course, was not over well 
pleased with this speech, but I began, as did many 
others, not to be altogether satisfied with his 

He shortly went to London with his son, and 
obtained an introduction to the Prince of Wales, who 
took a particular hking to the lad, and admired the 
father for his general elegance. 



Christmas party — Dr. Fryer — George Papendiek's play — Miss Catley — 
Various marriages — Children's hall at Windsor — ^Kindness of the 
Princess Royal — Mr. Papendiek and the band — Mrs. Papendiek to 
town to ' make her courtesy * — The Drawing-room very splendid — 
Footmen — Scholars of Christ's Hospital — Lawrence — Fuseli — Story 
of Lawrence and Fuseli — ^The Tuesday's stag-hunt — ^Frederick's 
precocity — Mr. Brown's ball — Son of the hairdresser Mori — Cousin 
Charlotte — Mrs. Siddons — Burning of the Opera House — Magnificence 
of the new Opera House — The stag-hunt at Windsor — Zoffany's 
portrait of Mies Farren — The Blagroves — Bridgetower and his son — 
Young Bridgetower and the Prince of Wales — Mrs. Siddons and her 

It now bordered close on Christmas, and we had 
our usual party — Mingays, Forrests, Delavauxs, &c. 
Tea and cards in the drawing-room, and a hot supper 
at nine, which consisted of four or six dishes, sweets, 
mince pies, with a flame of brandy, a bowl of punch, 
one of white wine negus, and mulled beer. 

The singing, which we always kept up till after 
twelve o'clock, was good. The performers were 
Gore, Salmon, and Sale, and we finished our evening 
with ' God save the King.' 

At tea we were surprised with a visit from Dr. 
Fryer, who had just arrived from the Continent, and 


introduced himself to my husband as being the par- 
ticular friend of George Papendiek at Gottingen, 
where he was now settled. He wished that we should 
read over together the play of * The Misanthrope,' 
which had been translated by George Papendiek, and 
which he had in his possession. We explained that 
we could not do it that evening on account of our 
musical meeting, to which we begged he would stay, 
and proposed the next evening for the reading, to 
which he gladly acceded. 

I summoned the Wests and Lawrences, knowing 
them to be excellent judges, to come and give their 
opinion, and we all agreed that it was faithfully trans- 
lated from Kotzebue, and that the author's mean- 
ing was fully conveyed. Dr. Fryer had seen it 
performed in Germany, and spoke highly of its 
merits, and George Papendiek was anxious that it 
should be brought forward in England, as the profits, 
if it succeeded, would be acceptable. Dr. Fryer was 
going to settle in Bath as physician, and we thought 
it highly probable that they would bring the play 
out in that place, and as the Bath Theatre was in 
high repute, it would be a good introduction for it. 
We drew up a little paper, which our party signed, to 
say that neither Dr. Fryer nor George Papendiek 
were to dispose of the play without consulting each 
other, nor was it to be given out of the hands of the 
Doctor to be read. Each of them was to hold a copy 


of this paper, and the play was then given back to 
Dr. Fryer, for him to do the best he could with it in 
George Papendiek's interest. 

We could scarcely forget the peculiar interest we 
felt in this play. It was so touching that it almost 
prevented the merry glass we drank to its success. 
Burgess was moved by it to a degree of enthusiasm 
which seldom occurred, and Lawrence said he almost 
feared for its success, as it required a Siddons, a 
Kemble, and a Palmer, to do it justice. 

Burgess, though a quiet, undemonstrative man as 
a rule, did enjoy our little parties and our music, in 
which he often took a part. He was always welcome 
when he chose to come in ; Mrs. Eoach also had an 
unlimited invitation, and seldom failed to join our 
social meetings and whatever might tend to her 
amusement or advantage. 

This Christmas Mr. Papendiek proposed an illumi- 
nated tree, according to the German fashion, but the 
Blagroves being at home for their fortnight, and the 
party at Mrs. Eoach's for the hoHdays, I objected to 
it. Our eldest girl, Charlotte, being only six the 30th 
of this November, I thought our children too young 
to be amused at so much expense and trouble. Mr. 
Papendiek was vexed — yet I do hope and trust the 
children were made happy. 

In the autumn Miss Catley died. She had been a 
celebrated actress and singer in her day. General 


Lascelles took her from the stage, and after she had 
given birth to a son and four daughters, he married 
her for her really good conduct. Her leading cha- 
racter which called forth so much admiration was 
Euphrosyne in ' Comus,' and her acting of this part 
was really superexcellent. After her retirement from 
the stage she was remarkable for her charities, and in 
every respect she was a truly good woman. 

Several marriages took place during the past 
summer and autumn which caused some interest at 
the time. Amongst others, Lieut.-Colonel Lennox, the 
duellist, was married to Lady Charlotte Gordon, the 
present Dowager Duchess of Eichmond ; Lord Mas- 
sereene was married to his French friend, Madame 
Borrien ; and Harry Aston was married to Miss 
Ingram, a lady of high fashion, who afterwards became 
bedchamber woman to Caroline, Princess of Wales, 
her husband having been one of his Royal Highness's 
companions of the table. 

The Christmas week was taken up in preparing 
for a juvenile ball at the Lodge, which it was thought 
would amuse the King without the trouble of ceremony 
to him. His Majesty was always particularly fond 
of children, and this idea, which was a novelty, was to 
be carried out upon a scale calculated to give great 
pleasure to them and to the King also, in watching the 
delight of the little ones. The Queen planned that 
this party should take place on January 1, as the New 


Year's Day drawing-room was, for the first time since 
the accession of the King, to be dispensed with, as well 
as the Odes and other formal observances of congratu- 
lation on the beginning of another year. The King 
was apprised of the Queen's proposal and approved, 
but when the time drew near he altogether objected to 
it. He said that the rooms in which it was proposed 
to hold the entertainment, four rooms upstairs and 
two below, which were well suited to the purpose, 
were too near to his own apartments, and that the 
noise over his head would disturb him. This objection 
was only raised the very day before this joyous party 
was to take place ; and at supper on the last day of 
the old year his Majesty said that unless it were held 
at the Castle, it should not be held at all. 

Mr. Garton, the controller, was sent for. He was 
gone home. Then Mr. Papendiek volunteered to go 
down to him, which he did, and found him in his 
dressing-room. At first he would not hear of the 
change, said it would not be possible &c., but Mr. 
Papendiek encouraged him by saying that it never 
would be forgotten, that at a command from him, all 
would fly to obey, and that he thought it might be 
done. It ended in Mr. Garton putting on his coat 
again, and then, returning to the Lodge together, Mr. 
Papendiek entered the supper-room with a smiling 
countenance, and in answer to the interrogatory 
'Well?' from both King and Queen, he said that 


Mr. Garten was at the door. He was summoned im- 
mediately, and when admitted simply bowed and said 
that his Majesty's commands should be obeyed, 
and that by six o'clock the* next evening (the hour 
originally fixed upon) all should be ready at the 

Princess Ameha waa at that time only six years 
old. Princesses Mary and Sophia, fourteen and twelve. 
The elder Princesses had planned very pretty decora- 
tions, and the Princess Eoyal had painted two scenes, 
behind which were to have been placed the choristers 
and the regimental bands, so that all was to be fairy- 
land to surprise the very young. Our Uttle girls 
were to be placed so as to see and hear the whole, and 
the Princess Eoyal had given them each a pink satin 
sash to wear on the occasion. She had for many days 
had the children with her to cut paper for bows, so 
as to pretend that they were assisting her in the pre- 
parations. Our dear Princess had such a kind heart, 
and was always so good to the Httle ones I 

The equerries had the altered invitations to send 
out. Garton sent messengers as far as Maidenhead 
to the two principal inns there, to Salt Hill, and to 
Staines, for new decorations and assistance in this 
emergency, and also to the King's confectioners in 
London. All responded with alacrity, but of course 
there was much bustle and hurry. 

And so closed this eventful year, begun in so 

VOL. n. M 


much sadness, but ended, thank God, in joy and 
thankfulness for the restoration of our gracious 
monarch to his loving subjects, a feehng shared by 
all, from the highest to the lowest in the land. 

My heart was lifted up in thankfulness, too, to 
the Great Giver of all things for the continued bless- 
ings and happiness of my own dear home. 

All was ready in good time on this 1st of 
January, 1790, and the juvenile ball went off well. 
Yet a Uttle disappointment at the change was felt, as 
many of the arrangements and surprises that were 
planned for the Lodge had to be dispensed with at 
the Castle, which was too public for children, at any 
rate for infant children. The Bang's band were 
ordered, but many of them were absent on a hoUday. 
Their places were filled, by Mr. Papendiek's con- 
trivance, from the regimental band, and it was not 
discovered. Mr. Garton was immortalised for his 
successful exertions, and did not withhold his thanks 
to Mr. Papendiek for his encouragement. The 
following day the eldest Griesbach called upon us to 
tender the thanks of the private band to Mr. Papen- 
diek for his having concealed the absence of those 
members who could not be recalled in time when the 
order came for their attendance. They had been 
told that they should not be wanted, so they did not 
consider themselves in the wrong. Nevertheless, they 
wished to thank Mr. Papendiek, whom they found 


to be their friend. They trusted that the little 
unpleasantness of the year before might be forgotten, 
and that they might resume former habits and come 
to us on the same friendly terms as before. 

To set all right, and to show that we bore no ill- 
will towards them, we proposed a trio and a supper, 
leaving it to them to decide who should come. We 
invited the Stowes, as we had not had them at our 
last parties, and enjoyed some pleasant music. 

We dined at the Mingays only to meet the 
Lowrys, and we went one evening to the Delavauxs, 
and had a little singing and a supper. 

The 18th of January, the Queen's birthday, being 
the first Eoyal anniversary kept since the illness, we 
thought it right that I should go to town, ' to make 
my courtesy,' as it was termed. I took the little girls, 
who also appeared with me in their new pink sashes 
and new caps with ribbons to match ; I in the same 
dress as at the Herschels' dinner. 

We were graciously welcomed, and after seeing 
the Queen, the elder Princesses and the younger, we 
returned to my father's to dine. 

Soon after, Mr. Palman sent up to say that the 
display at the drawing-room was so magnificent that 
he wished us to come down. No one that day was 
with us, so my brother and I went alone. The sight 
was indeed grand. The dresses were richly em- 
broidered and trimmed ; velvets with gold or silver 

M 2 


patterns; real sable borders beaded with jewels — 
all most magnificent and costly. Sedan chairs were 
then in use, and the Duchess of Devonshire, the 
Duchess of Northumberland, and other ladies, went 
in them, preceded by eight footmen in the most 
splendid liveries. 

The title of footman was more correctly applied 
in those days than at the present time, as they liter- 
ally were men on foot, attending the chairs of their 
masters and mistresses. At night they usually 
carried torches, the streets of London being then 
very insufficiently lighted, and upon arriving at their 
destination they stood at either side of the door 
steps till the lady or gentleman had passed within, 
and then put out their torches by thrusting them 
into the iron extinguishers which may still be seen 
at the doors of many houses. 

On Royal birthdays new carriages came out of 
the most elegant description, and the nobility ap- 
peared as their rank demanded, and were looked 
up to with respect and reverence. On these days 
dinners were held by the nobility, the ministers of 
state, the officers of the army and navy, and the 
appointed trades, either at their respective houses 
or at the leading taverns of the day. Indeed, the 
holiday was so general that business gave place to 
public rejoicing. The Court was brilliant, well 
supported, and everything well regulated. 


The ceremonies of the New Year's drawing-room 
were this year observed on the Queen's birthday. 
The Ode was performed by the state band of St. 
James's, Dr. Parsons being the organist and con- 
ductor. The Bishops gave their blessing, and the 
mathematical scholars of Christ's Hospital attended 
to show their improvement. This ward of the 
school was founded by Charles 11., the institution 
itself having been established in the year 1552 by 
Edward VI., since when the endowments have been 
continually on the increase from the munificence of 
the City of London and from private sources, so that 
at the time of which I am writing it was a noble, 
richly-endowed charity. It was originally intended 
solely and entirely for the sons of gentlemen of 
limited means, more especially for those destined for 
the Church or other learned professions ; but, as in 
everything eke of the kind, abuse creeps in, and 
now many of the scholars are of a class for which 
the institution was not designed. Within the last 
few years, I think about 1825, the Duke of York laid 
the first stone of the magnificent hall, only lately 

Mr. Papendiek this year had lodgings at Kohler's, 
in Thatched House Court, where there was sufficient 
accommodation for me to be quartered also, when I 
wished to come to town for a few days, and it waa a 
very convenient situation, being so close to St. James's.' 


We called together on Lawrence, and found him 
finishing the picture of Lord Abercom's sons, and we 
also saw the commencement of the portrait of the 
Duke of Portland, and one of Miss Farren, of which 
so much was thought when it was exhibited the next 
season. He told us that he had tried for Sir Joshua 
Reynolds's house and painting-rooms in Leicester 
Square, but they were occupied by an army clothier. 
He therefore intended to remain in Greek Street, Soho. 

While we were in Lawrence's studio Fuseli came 
in and looked round, criticising in his usual abrupt 
but good-natured manner. He was a much older 
man than Lawrence, but it was only this year that 
he became a Royal Academician, while Lawrence was 
already a student of the Royal Academy ; the follow- 
ing year he became an Associate, and the year 
succeeding that he was appointed painter to the 
King, on the death of Sir Joshua Reynolds. As I 
have mentioned something of his future, I may as 
well here add that he died only in 1830, and was 
buried in St. Paul's Cathedral, near to the tomb of 
his valued friend West. It was remarked by some 
friends, who with him attended the funeral of Mr. 
Dawes, another Royal Academician, in St. Paul's, that 
Lawrence appeared to be looking about as if choosing 
where he would wish to be laid himself. Within 
three months he was buried at the very spot upon 
which his eye had seemed to rest. 


Fuseli had originally come over to England from 
Zurich in the year 1763, but almost immediately left 
again, to study, by Sir Joshua Beynolds's recom- 
mendation, in Bome. He was a most promising 
young scholar, and painted well, but he was apt to 
fall into exaggerations of style, and though popular 
at one time, his paintings are hardly of a quality to 
survive the criticisms of these enlightened times. 
His aspirations were lofty and sublime, but his powers 
were not sufficiently great to enable him to carry out 
his magnificent conceptions in such a manner as to 
satisfy himself or to make his name great to posterity. 
This very failing in himself, however, rendered him 
an excellent critic upon the works of others ; but he 
was so kind-hearted withal, and so lenient in his 
criticisms, always finding out merits while pointing 
out defects, that he was greatly valued as a friend by 
all his contemporaries 

[I came across, a short time ago, an amusing story 
of Fuseli and Sir Thomas Lawrence, which I venture 
to quote, as I do not think it is generally known : 
* In his (Lawrence's) great picture of " Satan calling 
to his Legions," FuseU was angry, because he said 
that he had borrowed the idea from him. "In 
truth," said he, " I did borrow the idea from you, but 
it was from your person, not your paintings. When 
we were together at Stacpoole Court, in Pembroke- 
shire, you may remember how you stood on yon high 


rock which overlooks the Bay of Bristol, and gazed 
down upon the sea which rolled so magnificently 
below. You were in raptures ; and while you were 
crying, ' Grand, grand ! Jesu Christ, how graiid ! ' 
you put yourself into a wild posture. I thought on 
the Devil looking into the abyss, and took a slight 
sketch of you at the moment. Here it is. My 
Satan's posture now was yours then." This pacified 
FuseU. Others, however, refused to be pleased, 
and the picture was very severely criticised when it 
was exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1790.' — Ed.] 

A day or two after this I returned to Windsor, 
leaving the little girls in town, and found all well 
and right at home. It was a mild winter this year, 
a great contrast to the bitter cold of the preceding 
year, and a gay season in London. 

In order to be present at the Tuesday's stag-hunt, 
their Majesties, with the elder Princesses, two ladies, 
two equerries. Misses Bumey and Planta, Sandys 
and Mackenthum, with two King's pages, my father 
and Mr. Papendiek, came down to Windsor every 
week, until Easter, on Monday, and returned to town 
on the Wednesday, which was a break for us all 
during the dreary time. 

Frederick was three years old on the 20th of this 
month, January 1790, and was so fond of music, and 
so wrapt in hearing it, that it was something not 
often to be met with. The Stowes were at this time 


daily with us to practise, and Frederick would be 
placed in his high chair at the end of the pianoforte, 
so that he could look down upon the keys. He would 
have Horn's second sonata played, and so did his mind 
take in the whole composition, that when Miss Stowe, 
in joke or in trial of his memory, left bits out, that 
dear little soul would try to express his distress in 
some way, and would not be easy till all was per- 
formed correctly. The sonata of Kozebuch in C 
minor he also nearly acquired, but the whole was too 

Mrs. Stowe often came down to us of evenings, 
and upon these occasions Mr. Burgess, if not out, took 
refuge in his own room. 

Mr. Brown, on going to his new apartments, de- 
termined to give a ball as a house-warming. He was 
then a sociable being, and consequently much liked, 
and the evening proved most agreeable. My uncle's 
family had been intimate friends of his late wife, kind 
to his children, and their house a home for himself. 
He therefore asked my aunt to assist him in his 
arrangements for the entertainment, and my uncle to 
be master of the ceremonies. Mr. Papendiek under- 
took to provide the music, and in addition to the 
invitation list made out by Mr. Brown, we were to 
name any friends we wished to ask. The guests in- 
cluded the Misses Sandys and Mackenthum, the 
former supposed to be the admired one ; Mr. and 


Mrs. HUnnemann, Mrs. Wadsworth, three cousins 
and their two brothers; our family of course, my 
sister, then fourteen, my brother, &c. &c. We in- 
troduced Salomon, Duberly, Nicolay, and Lawrence, 
but the Wests could not come. 

Dancing proceeded merrily, when late in the 
evening arrived the Delavauxs, to the surprise of all, 
and their appearance rather threw a damper over the 
general hilarity. The younger sister did not dance 
or join in the throng, and conjecture then gave her 
to be the bride of the host, which in less than two 
years was realised. She looked very pretty in a dress 
of light blue poplin, in which her likeness was taken 
by a Mr. Brown, who travelled the country to paint 
portraits at a low price. 

Mrs. HUnnemann's dress was particularly becoming 
and well chosen. A white satin slip, with an India 
book-muslin over it, trimmed with a good candle- 
light ^coquelicot' In her well-dressed black hair 
she had flowers to accord. She always used to go to 
Mori's in Charing Cross, the Truefitt of the day, to 
have her hair cut and dressed ; and in the shop the 
present violin player, Mori, then a little son of the 
house, would run about with a violin in his hand, and 
say, * As you are going to a ball, I will play you some 
dances.' There was a genius or a player by nature, 
for I do not recollect ever to have heard anyone 
named of whom he called himself the scholar. 


She told me that Mr. HUnnemann had bought a 
house in Frith Street, corner of Soho Square ; that 
they had furnished their drawing-room new, and 
that what they had before had fitted up as many 
rooms as they required ; and that she had there given 
birth to a second child, a little girl, whom she de- 
scribed as being very pretty. 

My cousin Charlotte was the belle of the evening, 
then about twenty. She was dressed in a fawn or 
light brown silk, trimmed with blonde, and a cap 
elegantly put on by Keade. I was not quite well, 
and was disconcerted by my cousin not being so 
rejoiced to meet me as I had expected. I wore my 
striped India muslin, with a fancy body of purple and 
yellow, to match a sash I had of that mixture quite 
new. My cap failed, and, put on by Mr. Theilcke, 
bad was made worse. I had called upon Miss Pohl to 
ask her to make it, but in this order she did not suc- 
ceed, though in my black bonnet, bought a few months 
before, there was no fault. She did not carry on the 
whole of her mother's business, but depended more 
for a livelihood upon the house she had taken in 
Duke Street, close to Piccadilly, which from its size 
and situation proved a profitable speculation. She, 
however, still did some millinery and mantua-making, 
when her employers found the material, which she 
preferred to purchasing it herself. 

Our evening closed agreeably. There was no 


supper, but refreshments at different times, and in a 
snug parlour oysters and porter for the gentlemen, 
often replenished. 

Miss Brown, our host's niece, now dresser to the 
Landgravine of Hesse Homburg, was at this party, as 
one of Mrs. Watson's workers, who came with her, 
she being one of the great mantua-makers of that 

We called upon my aunt the morning after the 
ball, and she told us that, Lady Charlotte Finch 
having objected to music over her head all day, my 
cousin was now obliged to instruct her scholars at 
their own homes, which was a great pity, as it com- 
pletely altered the footing upon which she had begun 
this means of being useful to her family. Mr. 
Papendiek had cautioned my uncle and aunt against 
allowing Clementi to be alone with her during his 
lesson, but they said there was no cause to be un- 
easy, which we quite understood ! and felt that they 
ought to know how to manage their own family. 

One evening we went to see Mrs. Siddons, whose 
acting could now be seen in perfection, as the Drury 
Lane company had engaged the Haymarket Theatre 
while their own was rebuilding. This was done to 
compete with Covent Garden, which was opened this 
season for the first time since its erection. It was on 
rather a larger scale than the one pulled down from 
want of repair, and the arrangement of boxes was 


different. The second tier now went all round, 80 the 
first or second gallery was immediately over the front 
boxes. This was the theatre where the boxes were 
supported from the walls, with no pillars, and chan- 
deliers hanging round, which gave a subdued light 
and made the stage appear much more brilliant. 

Miss Young, Munden, Quick, Edwin, &c., were 
at that house, and Mrs. Siddons, Mrs. Jordan, 
Kemble, the Palmers, &c., at the other. At the end 
of the preceding season, the Opera House was burnt 
down, the light of the conflagration having been seen 
from the heights at Windsor. Wonderful to relate, 
Novosielski, their architect, had rebuilt it in time to 
open for the season as usual. It was built to hold . 
5,000 people, and that number of tickets with 500 
added were given gratis on the opening night to try 
the effect and strength of the house. A small back 
staircase fell, but no one was hurt. The walls have 
bulged a little at times, and jealousy of course con- 
demned the architect and builder, but as the King's 
Theatre still stands, or more properly speaking, now 
in 1838, Queen Victoria's, I think that in itself speaks 
for the superior art and science there displayed. 
Novosielski returned to Italy when the whole was 
completed. , This new Opera House was upon a larger 
and more magnificent scale than anything hitherto 
attempted in England, and required singers such as 
then could be engaged, Mara, Billington, Storace, &c. 


Their Majesties, after the birthday, resumed their 
former habits of amusement, and with the three 
elder Princesses went every Monday night to Coven 
Garden Theatre, and on Wednesdays to the Concerts 
of Ancient Music, of which there were twelve regular 
ones, and a thirteenth, at which the * Messiah ' was in- 
variably performed, was always given for the benefit 
of the fund for the Eoyal Society of Musicians, when 
the pubUc were admitted with tickets at a guinea 
each, which gave also the privilege of admission to 
the rehearsal. These concerts were held at the rooms 
in Tottenham Court Eoad. 

On Tuesdays and Thursdays were the concerts 
at the Queen's House; on Thursdays the drawing- 
rooms, and from Friday till Monday the Eoyal 
Family spent at Windsor for the stag-hunt on Satur- 
day, at the turning out of which the Queen with the 
Princesses now again usually attended, weather per- 
mitting, and when near home, we sometimes also had 
the treat. 

These arrangements were for the early part of the 
winter. As soon as Lent commenced their Majesties 
did not visit the theatre, and during that season the 
Eoyal Family spent from Monday till Wednesday at 
Windsor, the stag-hunt being on Tuesdays, as I have 
before said. 

On Sundays the family attended divine service at 
the Chapel Eoyal, St. James's, in court dresses. After 


the service a drawing-room or reception was held, 
but no presentations were permitted. 

While I was in town this time I called on Sunday 
after service, with my brother, upon the Zoffanys, 
who had now estabhshed themselves in one of the 
new houses in Keppel Place, Fitzroy Square, Zoflany 
having resumed his portrait painting. We found 
them just going to dine, and by their desire we re- 
mained to partake of their hospitahty. 

The painting-room did not exhibit a welcome on 
the return of the once favourite artist, for not a 
portrait was there except one of his old and sincere 
friend. Miss Farren — ^a small whole-length, in alight 
green satin dress and black velvet Spanish hat, the 
then costume for dinner parties. Zoflfany was par- 
ticularly great in drapery, both as regards the folds 
and taste, and in copying the elegances of dress ; and 
this portrait being faultless in these points, and also 
an excellent Hkeness, was a perfect gem. Alas, these 
dear friends are gone ; no more will they smUe upon 
each other. 

We told Zoflany of Lawrence's portrait of this 
inimitable actress, and that he intended to exhibit it, 
upon which Zoflany replied, * I shall go and look at 
it, and if I think that by exhibiting it he will gain 
credit to himseK, I will keep mine back, for a young 
man must be encouraged.' 

We left them early, in order to be in time to 


receive young Lawrence and his parents to tea at 
St. James's. My father had called upon them, and 
particularly admired the mother, and thought her a 
woman fully capable of leading a genius or talented 
person to eminence. 

I also while I was in town called upon Mrs. 
Blagrove, who lived in Lower Berkeley Street. She 
was a particularly pleasant, lady-like woman, and 
very attentive to her children. The folding doors of 
her drawing-room were of glass, so that she was 
aware of all that was going on in the schoolroom, 
the back drawing-room being devoted to that pur- 

Shortly after my return home the Blagrove boys 
were seized with measles. We kept a constant fire 
in Mr. Burgess's room, where we placed a nurse, 
moving Mr. Burgess upstairs to the red curtained 
back bedroom. The boys remained in their own 
beds, and so well did Dr. Mingay bring them through 
the attack that no unfavourable symptoms appeared, 
nor did any after-indisposition occur of cough, weak 
eyes, or any other ailment. They went home for 
Easter rather sooner than usual, and while they 
were away we had their rooms thoroughly washed, 
purified, and refreshed. My boys escaped (the little 
girls were fortunately still in town), though they went 
on as usual. No door was shut, but the doctor did not 
allow them to go out as long as the infection lasted, 


SO that they should not breathe a different atmo- 
sphere. We all reassembled after the holidays, my 
girls returning too after their long visit to their 

During this time we were again annoyed by a 
visit from Bridgetower. He, one morning, going as 
he said to Salt Hill or somewhere in the neighbour- 
hood, left his son with us, who took this opportunity 
to disclose to us his unhappy situation. He said that 
his mother was left in distress, and that the money he 
could earn by his music was wasted in crime even in 
his presence, and added that the brutal severity of 
his father must soon lead him to some desperate act. 
Mr. Papendiek could only pity, and persuade the 
poor lad to be careful not to provoke or aggravate 
this man, now found out in his wickedness. When 
he returned we had luncheon, and then they went off 
to London. 

We heard in a short time that the son had taken 
refuge at Carlton House, and that the father had 
returned to Germany. Mr. Papendiek called to 
inquire into this business, when the Prince of Wales 
told him that one evening Bridgetower, having re- 
turned home with a companion, had desired his son 
to get under the sofa and to go to sleep. The first 
part of the command he obeyed, and, watching his 
opportunity, made his escape. He ran to Carlton 
House, where, from having often been there to 

VOL. n. N 


perform, he was well known, and on supplicating 
protection, he was taken care of till the morning, 
when the circumstance was related to the Prince. 
His Koyal Highness at once sent for the father, and 
desired him to leave the kingdom immediately, 
saying that he would furnish him with a proper 
sum of money for his journey, and that on hearing 
of his return to his wife and family, he would 
remit a trifle for present emergencies that he might 
have the opportunity of looking out for employment 
of a more honourable nature than he had pursued 
in this country. If he made arrangements for his 
immediate departure, the Prince said he would 
permit him to call for the money and to take leave 
of his son, whom he had treated so cruelly. The 
Prince from that time took him entirely under his 
protection, and treated him from first to last with 
the utmost kindness. 

The young lad was first stripped of the fancy 
dress of a Polish black, which he usually wore, and 
clad in the English fashion of that day. A proper 
person was appointed to instruct him, and as he was 
not then to depend upon the pubUc for support, he 
had time to develop the great talent for music 
which he possessed. He was to keep up his vioHn 
playing by steady practice, and by hearing the first- 
class performers who were almost constantly at 
Carlton House, for the Prince continued to have his 


little parties for practice either morning or evening. 
This fortunate child had, therefore, the opportunity 
of almost daily associating with such men as Giardini, 
Cramer, Salomon, and Viotti, and improved greatly 
from the latter, whose style appeared to suit him, 
for Bridgetower had always been remarkable for 
his elegant and bold manner of drawing the 

The farewell parting between father and son 
was affecting, although there was a sort of horror 
depicted upon the countenance of the latter. Their 
position towards each other seemed for the moment to 
be reversed, for the boy spoke gravely, beseeching his 
father to lead a better life for the sake of his mother. 
I am happy to say that he went through life with 
credit to himself in all respects, and remained with 
the Prince, who was true to him and to his word. 
Whether now in this country, or even whether still 
aUve, I cannot aver. His brother once came over to 
see him. He was a violoncello player, but not 
superior, though he supported his mother by his 
talents, being cosntantly engaged at theatres, balls, 
public gardens, &c. The father continued much the 
same course of Ufe as before, neglecting his family 
and home, and often wandering away for months at 
a time. 

A theatrical sensation was at this time pending in 
London. Mrs. Siddons took two benefits during the 



season ; one before Easter, * the high-water mark/ 
as Horace Walpole terms it, the second after that 
holiday. Her daughter, Maria Siddons, was an- 
nounced to appear on this second occasion in the 
character of * Emilia Galotti,' and rehearsed the part, 
admiration and approbation of her powers increasing 
each time, and the night was looked to with the 
greatest enthusiasm and expectation. Mrs. Siddons 
was then in her zenith, and was very tenacious of 
rivalship. At the last moment, to the surprise of 
everyone, she would not permit her daughter to 
appear, giving for the reason that she was too young 
and too delicate ; and Mrs. Siddons announced that 
she would herself perform the character. This, her 
friends prevailed upon her not to do, and another 
was substituted. Excitement in the Siddons family 
was intense ; and among other things to disturb and 
perplex the father were the constant attentions of 
Thomas Lawrence to this interesting girl, then about 
eighteen, and he asked him if his intentions were 
honourable. Lawrence answered that they were un- 
doubtedly so, but that if Mr. Siddons meant with 
respect to marriage, that would at present not be 
possible, as he was scarcely established himself, and 
had his own family yet dependent upon his exertions. 
Old Siddons then desired that his visits should be less 
frequent. Whether from disappointment or really 
delicate health, this sweet girl died a few months 


after. Her death caused a general feeling of sorrow 
and sympathy. 

This story was related to me by Lawrence him- 
self when I renewed my acquaintance with him, after 
a few years' interval, about the year 1828 ; and he 
added that it was not true, and that he had only 
heard it from the Duke of Cumberland a short time 
before, when he called upon him to solicit a command 
from some member of the Royal Family. He had 
only been honoured upon one occasion by her Royal 
Highness the Duchess of Gloucester sitting to him for 
her portrait, and he was very anxious to obtain some 
Royal patronage. The Duke answered that the Queen 
had considered her portrait a failure, and that the 
story of Maria Siddons was no credit to him ; and 
there the matter ended. 

Mr. Hughes, manager of the theatre at Wey- 
mouth, who was very intimate with Mrs. Siddons, 
told the circumstance to Mr. Papendiek as I have re- 
lated it, and added that soon after the death of the 
daughter, Lawrence again found his way into their 
house, and, with the Kembles, took the lead in many 
of the arrangements. No doubt it was an intimacy 
of advantage to both parties, but it ultimately led to 
the separation of Mr. and Mrs. Siddons. He had not 
kept pace with his wife in improving the inferior 
talent he possessed, and, therefore, when she, from 
assiduity and perseverance, attained pre-eminence in 


her profession, he lost all control over her actions. 
She was courted and flattered by all, and as she 
advanced in her position, she gained a power of com- 
mand over any society that seemed at the moment to 
suit her purpose. She was sought after and received 
in the higher circles, which disturbed the comfort of 
her home, and when the children were off hand, some 
by death and others by marriage, she separated from 
her husband ; her eldest daughter, only, remaining 
with her as a companion. 

The profits of her labours, 40,000/., were divided 
between the husband and wife, each taking 20,000/. 
The public rather doubted her conjugal fidelity, but 
her husband and patrons held her in the highest 
respect, being assured of her honour and integrity. 

She was an ambitious woman, and very eager for 
gain. She twice refused to play for charity, and it 
was with some difficulty that the public were per- 
suaded to permit her to continue their servant. It 
was the usual plan to engage the dramatic performers 
for a certain number of nights at a stated sum, and 
for any additional night that they were requested to 
give their services, they were paid agreeably to their 
demand, unless it were the leading members of the 
company, who invariably performed gratis. Mrs. 
Siddons, on the contrary, would only upon these 
occasions lend her aid for a heavy sum, and this 
mercenary greed was too glaring to be overlooked. 



Troubles in France — The new star, Dussek — His performance and 
appearance — The Bishop of London — The French Kevolution — 
Graciousness of the Queen — Music masters for the Princesses — 
dementi — ^The Queen's dislike to Louis Albert — Horn — Dr. Parsons 
— General Rooke — Mr. Albert breaks his arm — Planchd — Mr. Keate 
and Mr. Griffiths — Mr. Keate and the Queen — Mr. Keate and the 
Prince of Wales — Surgeon to the forces — Mrs. Papendiek goes to 
London — Meets Charles Papendiek — ^Visits Lawrence at his studio — 
Lawrence and Lord Derby — ^TheStowes leave Windsor — Gascoigne*s 
house in the Home Park — Mrs. Papendiek goes to London — Abbey 
concert — Excellent performance — ^The Royal Academy — Cecilia 
Zoffany, afterwards Mrs. Thomas Horn — Her sisters, Mrs. Beachcroft 
and Mrs. Oliver — Mrs. Papendiek, as usual, takes the children to 
the Queen and Princesses — Baron Dillon — Ball-room tickets — ^Prince 
Ferdinand of Wiirtemberg — The Stowe family — Charles Papendiek's 

The troubles in France were rapidly gaining ground, 
and people of all ranks were crowding over to Eng- 
land ; among them many artistes in music and other 
branches of art and science, professors, literati, &c. 

A bright luminary in the musical line had been 
expected to make his debut at the Musical Fund 
concert, but he arrived only in time to be introduced 
on the oratorio nights, which were held at the 
theatre on Wednesdays and Fridays during Lent. 
Between the acts a modem piece was performed, and 


the new star, Dussek, was to make his first public 
appearance on a Friday. 

Dussek was born in Bohemia in 1762. He went 
to Prance, but owing to the Eevolution was com- 
pelled to leave that country, which accounts for his 
appearance in London. 

Ml*. Papendiek being in town, I just popped up 
to be present on the occasion. 

Handel was the only master whose oratorios were 
then performed, and the orchestra was on the stage 
as at this day. 

A pianoforte of Broadwood's was then brought 
in with as much ease as a chair, and immediately 
after Dussek followed, supported by John Cramer, 
whose fatlier stood forward as leader, Salomon and 
other great men of the day being grouped around 
him. The applause was loud as a welcome. Dussek, 
now seated, tried his instrument in prelude, which 
caused a second burst of applause. This so sur- 
prised the stranger, that his friends were obliged to 
desire him to rise and bow, which he did somewhat 
reluctantly. He then, after re-seating himself, spread 
a silk handkerchief over his knees, rubbed his hands 
in his coat pockets, which were filled with bran, and 
then began his concerto. That class of music then 
usually consisted of three movements, and lasted 
from twenty-five to thirty, and occasionally forty 
minutes. Near the end of the first movement there 


was always a * cadenza,' which gave the performer an 
opportunity of displaying his powers in brarmra^ or 
to show off any pecuUar or particular merit that he 
possessed. In this instance Dussek finished his 
cadence with a long shake and a turn that led in 
the ' Tutti ' to finish the movement, and he was rap- 
turously applauded. 

His music was full of melody, was elegantly 
pathetic, and even sublime. He was a handsome 
man, good dispositioned, mild and pleasing in his 
demeanour, courteous and agreeable. 

To accompany that inimitable harp-player, Ma- 
dame Krumpholtus, Dussek had four notes in the 
treble added to his pianoforte, which has now ex- 
tended to three more in the treble and three in the 
bass, by all makers. 

The proprietors of the Opera House disagreed, and 
one party engaged a company to perform on Tues- 
days and Saturdays at the new house, and the other 
party had a performance at the Haymarket Theatre 
on the same nights. This left only two nights for 
plays, as the Drury Lane Theatre was still building. 
Co vent Garden, therefore, had the oratorios, which 
were admirably got up and performed. Their 
Majesties no longer attended them, as they had their 
own Ancient Music concerts. The theatre was opened 
at playhouse prices, and filled well. 

The Royal Family, having resumed all their former 


habits, continued to attend the Chapel Royal on 
Sundays ; and on Easter Sunday they there took the 
sacrament. The afternoon of the same day they 
entered the travelUng carriages for Windsor, a cir- 
cumstance upon which the Bishop of London (Por- 
teus) had preached strongly more than once, con- 
demning the practice. This so vexed the King that 
he said, * Porteus shall never be Archbishop of Can- 
terbury,' and he never was ! 

The reason of this habit was that the last meet of 
the stag-hunting season was invariably held on Easter 
Monday, and the King, who always made a point of 
attending, could not easily have reached the ground 
by ten o'clock, if he waited to leave London till the 
Monday morning. 

The Master of the Buckhounds, who was a peer, 
always had to be present upon this occasion, and 
arrangements were then made about the running for 
the King's plate, and the ensuing Ascot races ; who 
among the yeomen prickers were to run for it ; which 
horses should be chosen for them to ride, and all 
regulations settled for this business, as well as for all 
matters relating to the hunt. 

The stag was then turned out in grand style, the 
Queen and Princesses being present, and the nobility 
and gentry residing in the neighbourhood. This being 
the first Easter Monday hunt since the great illness, 
the Bishop probably depended upon a change being 


made. If so, he was disappointed, for the same plan 
was continued as long as his Majesty's health per- 
mitted it. 

Great excitement prevailed in our own country 
about the French Ee volution, which had now attained 
a very serious height. Party spirit ran high and 
religion appeared to give way to false principle, so 
that we required energy in the superior orders of the 
clergy. The Bishops were divided in their politics. 
Such men, therefore, as Porteus, Hurd, and others 
looked for support and encouragement in their labours 
from the King and Eoyal Family. This was un- 
doubtedly in most instances granted to them, not only 
from what I may call, for want of a better expression, 
political reasons, but also from the innate love and 
reverence for religion felt by our gracious monarch 
and his Queen. In this particular case, however, 
they considered that their departure from the strict 
observance of the Sabbath on this one day in the 
year was for a good and sufficient reason, and that a 
relaxation was allowable after the solemn daily ser- 
vices and ordinances of Passion week. The Queen in 
the most gracious manner, and with the kindest con- 
sideration for the feeUngs of those about her, spoke of 
these things, and herself explained to us all what her 
views upon the matter were, saying, that as the hunt 
had been originally estabUshed in the hope of pro- 
viding a home amusement of a rational description 


for the Prince of Wales, she would not now wish to 
throw a damper upon the sport by making changes 
in the regulations, more especially as it was un- 
doubtedly a real amusement to the King. 

During the recess, company assembled in the 
neighbourhood of Windsor, and plenty of entertain- 
ment was found for the Eoyal Family, but the doctors 
(or rather Dr. Willis) were becoming anxious for the 
time of year when the King always spent from Friday 
till Monday away from London and the cares of busi- 
ness, and when he could enjoy* the fresh air without 
undue fatigue. There was, however, a tendency to 
drowsiness of an evening which they did not Uke, and 
to prevent this from becoming too decided a habit, it 
was thought advisable for the Queen to engage a music 
master for the Princesses Augusta and Elizabeth, who 
should remain at Windsor for those days, and besides 
giving these lessons, be ready at call to play in the 
evenings to amuse his Majesty, assisted by Dr. Ayl- 
ward, and the singers of the choir. The King's band 
could not leave London before the appointed time, 
added to which, we were this season to have an Abbey 

Who to fix upon now became the question. John 
Cramer was too young ; Dussek was scarcely known ; 
and Hulmandel, although a WUrtemberger, was from 
Paris. He had married a lady whom he had taught, 
and she being related to a member of the Convention, 


prudence, in these warlike times, passed them by. 
Clementi was applied to, but he was too crafty and 
shrewd to have anything to do with a court. He 
gave as his excuse that as he then had health and 
power to continue his teaching for sixteen hours a 
day, at a guinea a lesson, he did not wish to break 
the spell while the public were willing to employ him. 
These terms he never lessened, except in the two 
instances of Miss Stowe and my cousin Charlotte. 
Clementi, on refusing, said that he could recommend 
a very proper person, and one known to the Eoyal 
Family, namely the eldest daughter of Louis Albert 
(my cousin Charlotte). This so incensed the Queen 
that the dislike which she had always felt towards 
them all became intensified. She showed, I should 
almost say, a wish to dispense with the services of 
my uncle, which, however, could not be done ! 

My father represented to the Queen the praise- 
worthy undertaking of my cousin, and the manner 
in which it was to have been pursued, and said 
that it was only through the persecution of Lady 
Charlotte Finch that the plan was now changed, and 
though not quite so respectably followed, all was as 
yet going on well. This conversation led to the 
appointment of the two boys — Hugh to the Ord- 
nance Department, and William to the Customs — at 
about 60Z. a year each. A person as music teacher 
was at lengtli found ; a professor, but one who did 


season ; one before Easter, ' the high-water mark,' 
as Horace Walpole terms it, the second after that 
holiday. Her daughter, Maria Siddons, was an- 
nounced to appear on this second occasion in the 
character of * EmiUa Galotti,' and rehearsed the part, 
admiration and approbation of her powers increasing 
each time, and the night was looked to with the 
greatest enthusiasm and expectation. Mrs. Siddons 
was then in her zenith, and was very tenacious of 
rivalship. At the last moment, to the surprise of 
everyone, she would not permit her daughter to 
appear, giving for the reason that she was too young 
and too delicate ; and Mrs. Siddons announced that 
she would herself perform the character. This, her 
friends prevailed upon her not to do, and another 
was substituted. Excitement in the Siddons family 
was intense ; and among other things to disturb and 
perplex the father were the constant attentions of 
Thomas Lawrence to this interesting girl, then about 
eighteen, and he asked him if his intentions were 
honourable. Lawrence answered that they were un- 
doubtedly so, but that if Mr. Siddons meant with 
respect to marriage, that would at present not be 
possible, as he was scarcely established himself, and 
had his own family yet dependent upon his exertions. 
Old Siddons then desired that his visits should be less 
frequent. Whether from disappointment or really 
delicate health, this sweet girl died a few months 


after. Her death caused a general feeling of sorrow 
and sympathy. 

This story was related to me by Lawrence him- 
self when I renewed my acquaintance with him, after 
a few years' interval, about the year 1828 ; and he 
added that it was not true, and that he had only 
heard it from the Duke of Cumberland a short time 
before, when he called upon him to solicit a command 
from some member of the Eoyal Family. He had 
only been honoured upon one occasion by her Eoyal 
Highness the Duchess of Gloucester sitting to him for 
her portrait, and he was very anxious to obtain some 
Royal patronage. The Duke answered that the Queen 
had considered her portrait a failure, and that the 
story of Maria Siddons was no credit to him ; and 
there the matter ended. 

Mr. Hughes, manager of the theatre at Wey- 
mouth, who was very intimate with Mrs. Siddons, 
told the circumstance to Mr. Papendiek as I have re- 
lated it, and added that soon after the death of the 
daughter, Lawrence again found his way into their 
house, and, with the Kembles, took the lead in many 
of the arrangements. No doubt it was an intimacy 
of advantage to both parties, but it ultimately led to 
the separation of Mr. and Mrs. Siddons. He had not 
kept pace with his wife in improving the inferior 
talent he possessed,, and, therefore, when she, from 
assiduity and perseverance, attained pre-eminence in 


season ; one before Easter, * the high-water mark,' 
as Horace Walpole terms it, the second after that 
holiday. Her daughter, Maria Siddons, was an- 
nounced to appear on this second occasion in the 
character of ' EmiUa Galotti,' and rehearsed the part, 
admiration and approbation of her powers increasing 
each time, and the night was looked to with the 
greatest enthusiasm and expectation. Mrs. Siddons 
was then in her zenith, and was very tenacious of 
rivalship. At the last moment, to the surprise of 
everyone, she would not permit her daughter to 
appear, giving for the reason that she was too young 
and too delicate ; and Mrs. Siddons announced that 
she would herself perform the character. This, her 
friends prevailed upon her not to do, and another 
was substituted. Excitement in the Siddons family 
was intense ; and among other things to disturb and 
perplex the father were the constant attentions of 
Thomas Lawrence to this interesting girl, then about 
eighteen, and he asked him if his intentions were 
honourable. Lawrence answered that they were un- 
doubtedly so, but that if Mr. Siddons meant with 
respect to marriage, that would at present not be 
possible, as he was scarcely established himself, and 
had his own family yet dependent upon his exertions. 
Old Siddons then desired that his visits should be less 
frequent. Whether from disappointment or really 
delicate health, this sweet girl died a few months 


after. Her death caused a general feeling of sorrow 
and sympathy. 

This story was related to me by Lawrence him- 
self when I renewed my acquaintance with him, after 
a few years' interval, about the year 1828 ; and he 
added that it was not true, and that he had only 
heard it from the Duke of Cumberland a short time 
before, when he called upon him to solicit a command 
from some member of the Royal Family. He had 
only been honoured upon one occasion by her Eoyal 
Highness the Duchess of Gloucester sitting to him for 
her portrait, and he was very anxious to obtain some 
Royal patronage. The Duke answered that the Queen 
had considered her portrait a failure, and that the 
story of Maria Siddons was no credit to him ; and 
there the matter ended. 

Mr. Hughes, manager of the theatre at Wey- 
mouth, who was very intimate with Mrs. Siddons, 
told the circumstance to Mr. Papendiek as I have re- 
lated it, and added that soon after the death of the 
daughter, Lawrence again found his way into their 
house, and, with the Kembles, took the lead in many 
of the arrangements. No doubt it was an intimacy 
of advantage to both parties, but it ultimately led to 
the separation of Mr. and Mrs. Siddons. He had not 
kept pace with his wife in improving the inferior 
talent he possessed, and, therefore, when she, from 
assiduity and perseverance, attained pre-eminence in 


season ; one before Easter, ' the high-water mark/ 
as Horace Walpole terms it, the second after that 
holiday. Her daughter, Maria Siddons, was an- 
nounced to appear on this second occasion in the 
character of * Emilia Galotti,' and rehearsed the part, 
admiration and approbation of her powers increasing 
each time, and the night was looked to with the 
greatest enthusiasm and expectation. Mrs. Siddons 
was then in her zenith, and was very tenacious of 
rivalship. At the last moment, to the surprise of 
everyone, she would not permit her daughter to 
appear, giving for the reason that she was too young 
and too delicate ; and Mrs. Siddons announced that 
she would herself perform the character. This, her 
friends prevailed upon her not to do, and another 
was substituted. Excitement in the Siddons family 
was intense ; and among other things to disturb and 
perplex the father were the constant attentions of 
Thomas Lawrence to this interesting girl, then about 
eighteen, and he asked him if his intentions were 
honourable. Lawrence answered that they were un- 
doubtedly so, but that if Mr. Siddons meant with 
respect to marriage, that would at present not be 
possible, as he was scarcely established himself, and 
had his own family yet dependent upon his exertions. 
Old Siddons then desired that his visits should be less 
frequent. Whether from disappointment or really 
deUcate health, this sweet girl died a few months 


after. Her death caused a general feeling of sorrow 
and sympathy. 

This story was related to me by Lawrence him- 
self when I renewed my acquaintance with him, after 
a few years' interval, about the year 1828 ; and he 
added that it was not true, and that he had only 
heard it from the Duke of Cumberland a short time 
before, when he called upon him to solicit a command 
from some member of the Eoyal Family. He had 
only been honoured upon one occasion by her Eoyal 
Highness the Duchess of Gloucester sitting to him for 
her portrait, and he was very anxious to obtain some 
Royal patronage. The Duke answered that the Queen 
had considered her portrait a failure, and that the 
stoiy of Maria Siddons was no credit to him ; and 
there the matter ended. 

Mr. Hughes, manager of the theatre at Wey- 
mouth, who was very intimate with Mrs. Siddons, 
told the circumstance to Mr. Papendiek as I have re- 
lated it, and added that soon after the death of the 
daughter, Lawrence again found his way into their 
house, and, with the Kembles, took the lead in many 
of the arrangements. No doubt it was an intimacy 
of advantage to both parties, but it ultimately led to 
the separation of Mr. and Mrs. Siddons. He had not 
kept pace with his wife in improving the inferior 
talent he possessed, and, therefore, when she, from 
assiduity and perseverance, attained pre-eminence in 


This was the first opportunity that Mr. Keate had 
of returning the kindness of my father, and his atten- 
tion to him was unremitting. He was also the means 
of persuading the Queen to recommend my cousin 
Hugh to the Duke of York, to fill the appointment 
of Paymaster to the 58th Regiment, for which he had 
petitioned, and obtained it, no doubt, through this 
source. A third service he did us in naming my 
brother as one of the civil surgeons, or surgeon to the 
forces, a new appointment shown by Keate to be bene- 
ficial to troops who were moving in order of battle, 
that whenever they halted a hospital should be formed 
where this new order of surgeons shoidd be stationed, 
the regular army surgeons doing duty in the field. 

The first time of putting this efiective corps into 
requisition was when Abercrombie was sent to the 
Helder to efiect a landing on the coast of Holland in 
1799. These surgeons wore a uniform, and were 
under mihtary command. Both my brother and my 
cousin went through their appointments with honour 
to their patrons and credit to themselves, and to this 
day subsist upon their respective allowances of retired 

Griffiths, as might be expected, broke oflT his ac- 
quaintance with our family, but his sister, whom he 
compelled to marry Stillingfleet after many years* 
courtship, clung to us from this time throughout the 
whole of her unhappy life. 


When I heard that my father was well enough to 
walk about and be amused, I made arrangements for 
passing a week in town. 

My Uttle girls had returned home some little time 
before in excellent health and spirits, and in every 
respect decidedly improved. My mother had been 
very kind to them, and the fact of being away from 
home for so long, and on a visit alone, had brought 
them forward a good deal. My brother also had 
very good-naturedly heard them read and spell, and 
repeat out of their nursery books. They had learnt 
to make their dolls' clothes from Miss Pohl, Eliza 
being particularly fond of a doll. Charlotte had 
practised her duets with my brother, who then 
played Bach's and Schroeder's sonatas, and amused 
himself with the popular tunes of the day, so I 
determined to keep up their little employments by 
sending them to Mrs. Roach on fine days, and while 
I remained in town to stay there as boarders. 

All being well I went ofi* happily, almost con- 
sidering it a point of duty. I was always a welcome 
visitor at my old home, and in this instance contri- 
buted, I hope, to beguile the time that my father's 
arm hung in a sUng, and that the gout attacked him 
in the knee on the opposite side. One afternoon, 
when out walking alone, I met a man so like a Pa- 
pendiek, just by the Thatched House Tavern, that 
I knocked at HUniber's door to ask if the Easter 


messenger were arrived, and was told that he was, 
and Charles Papendiek with him. I asked old Kohler 
to take care of him, and to provide him with a bed at 
my husband's lodging in Thatched House Court, teUing 
him why he could not be received at St. James's. 
George Papendiek was now doing well. The Got- 
tingen University being very full on account of the 
three English Princes being there, he was amply 
supported by pupils, and begged to give up the 10/. 
hitherto allowed him by us. The father caught at 
this, and said that now we should be able to receive 
Charles. I did not at all wish this, and proposed to 
Mr. Papendiek to send this 101. to his father in addi- 
tion to what he already allowed him. Whether he 
wrote to make this proposal or not I cannot tell, but 
at any rate here was Charles Papendiek unexpectedly 
in this country, and must come to us on a visit, if not 
for longer. 

I did not on this account shorten my stay in town, 
and called, among other friends, upon the Lawrences, 
as I was anxious to see the portrait of Miss Farren 
finished after what I had heard at Zoffany's. The old 
servant showed me straight into the painting-room, as 
no onewas*then sitting, where certainly Miss Farren's 
look met you as you entered. Such a Ukeness, such 
an exquisite portrait, riveted me to the spot. I said, 
*Zoffany yields the palm, to you, and does not mean 
to exhibit his gem,' when Lawrence answered that 


he had been kind, and he considered himself obliged 
to him. He then told me that he was in a dilemma, 
which he proceeded to explain to me. Two gentle- 
men, who had called to see his pictures, were so 
struck with this portrait of Miss Farren when only 
the head was done, that they offered him a hundred 
guineas for it, with permission to exhibit it. He 
answered that Lord Derby having seen it just before, 
was so pleased with it that he at once said he would 
purchase it for sixty guineas, the price Lawrence put 
upon it. Lord Derby called often, being interested 
in the progress of the picture, and Lawrence told 
him of the offer made by these gentlemen. Lord 
Derby could only say that he was prepared to keep 
to his agreement — ^Mr. Lawrence could do as he 
thought proper. 

The mother was of my opinion, that an agreement 
ought to be adhered to, the father rather hankered 
after the additional sum offered ; the friends of Law- 
rence advised him to take the first line, which he 
eventually did. The portrait was admirable. It 
brought him great fame, but the cavil about the 
price did not add to his credit, and my Lord Derby 
never employed him after. 

Zoffany the following year painted another whole- 
length portrait of this enchanting actress, leaning 
against a pedestal, in theatrical costume, which was 
most beautiful. The expression of her countenance. 


and the penetrating look of her lively eyes, was 
fully as well portrayed as . by Lawrence, or even 
more so. 

On my return home I got the red curtained room 
ready for Charles Papendiek. A table, inkstand, &c., 
were requisite, and as we did not possess superflui- 
ties of anything, these were all additional expenses, 
although but trifling. He was to practise the flute in 
his brother's room, and to use that as his study 
whenever his bedroom would not suflice. 

I was just in time to take leave of the Stowes, 
who were now quitting Windsor. I have not said 
much about them lately, as there was no change 
among us. The little' kindnesses passing between us 
rather increased than diminished, and our mutual 
friendship strengthened. They took lodgings in 
Lower Berkeley Street, where they hoped by giving 
good concerts to get into the society of the nobility, 
which only partially succeeded. Miss Stowe was to 
be presented, and to dance at court on the King's 
birthday. This, as the Queen did not object, but 
rather approved, was quite a success. We recom- 
mended Noverre to teach the minuet. 

The spring was genial, and as the days lengthened 
more amusement seemed necessary for the King than 
the plan already laid down. The beautiful gardens 
of Kew and Richmond, where the Royal pair, sur- 
rounded by their children, used in former days to 


walk from six to eight on fine evenings, were now 
recalled with regret; and to find a substitute for 
them at Windsor was attended with insurmountable 
difficulty, for with all the magnificent walks and rides 
round the neighbourhood, not one that was private 
could be found. The garden between the Upper and 
Lower Lodges was more of a passage to both than a 
retreat into the fresh air ; moreover, every window 
looked into it. At length Qascoigne's house in the 
Home Park was looked at, and their Majesties were 
so pleased with it that it was at once arranged for 
their reception for a few weeks. 

The house stood upon a hill, rather to the right 
of the public path leading from Windsor to Datchet. 
It contained two stories, each with bay windows, and 
had a pretty garden, and all offices &c. requisite for 
his station as one of the keepers. 

The Queen was so pleased with it that she with the 
Princesses and her ladies often passed their mornings 
there, taking new milk, an egg, and a rasher of home- 
cured bacon for their lunch, and their cup of coffee 
after, which Mrs. Qascoigne made excellently. The 
Koyal party enjoyed it much for two seasons, and so 
pleased were their Majesties with their accommodation, 
that on quitting this charming retreat, permission 
was given to the Gascoignes to let lodgings of such 
rooms as they did not occupy if it could be of ad- 
vantage to them. They were of course grateful, and 


adopted the plan. Their son was soon raised to the 
position of head groom ; and on their fiftieth or 
Golden Wedding Day, the King gave an entertain- 
ment in the garden of the Lodge to fifty of each sex, 
dinner, tea, and dancing, Mr. and Mrs. Gascoigne 
leading off the first dance. 

We now advanced to the cheerful season, both 
for London and the country. Baron Dillon arrived 
from teland within a day or two of the birthday, 
and I again went to London with the Jervois's, accom- 
panied by the Baron, Mr. Papendiek taking the little 
girls to St. James's, and I joining him at his lodgings 
at Kohler's. We immediately went to Miss Pohl to 
be equipped for the Abbey, where this year, 1790, 
the cap was introduced that will be remembered as 
bearing that name. Mrs. Jervois wore her purple 
silk, cap blonde and gauze, black gauze cape, and 
cloak elegantly trimmed with lace. Miss Jervois, 
her gold worked muslin, white silk cloak trimmed 
with lace, lawn and lace cap with purple ribbon. 
The youngest gu'l had a mushn gown, and cloak and 
cap like her sister. Miss Pohl had only Miss King 
to assist her, so she undertook the cloaks, and for 
the rest of the things required we repaired to Mrs. 
Barlow, who had been recently married, and who 
finished her work in a peculiar style of elegance. The 
Baron, who went shopping with us, observed that to 
see her was alone quite enough to attract, exclusive 


of the taste displayed in her millinery. I wore my 
muslin with jacket, a new black gauze cloak, the 
very one in Coss^'s family picture, and a lawn cap 
with lace edges and purple ribbon. 

The first of this series of Abbey concerts took 
place on May 28. The Jervois's tickets were for the 
gallery, mine was for the middle aisle, and the 
Baron being put at the head of the tenor chorus 
singers was of course in the orchestra, and between 
the acts he divided his attentions between us. 

Storace this year appeared as the new singer. 
She sat in thfe centre and sang ' Dove sei/ On her 
right sat Mrs. Billington, who sang ' Pious orgies,' 
Cramer answering the sentences obbligato. It was 
indeed sublime. Mara, on the left, sang ' Farewell, ye 
limpid streams,' in a manner not to be described for 
its excellence. The other singers of note all acquitted 
themselves to perfection, duetts, quartetts, quintetts, 
besides solos, being judiciously chosen, with superb 
choruses, and the Coronation Anthem. 

It was a fine day, and we walked home through 
the Park together at the side of the Eoyal carriages. 
The Queen remarked to Mr. Papendiek at dinner that 
our party had done honour to the Abbey meeting, 
and she regretted that I had been alone in the aisle, 
although she was sure I had been fully gratified ; as 
indeed I was. 

We went also together to the Exhibition, the 


Baron insisting upon the Jervois's getting their bon- 
nets from Mrs. Baxlow. Mrs. Jervois's was silk with 
a deep lace fall, and those of the girls were Leghorn 
with purple trimmings. 

As far as I can recollect, Ralph West exhibited 
this year his colossal figure of the Devil calling up 
his Legions, from ' Paradise Lost ' ; Lawrence his por- 
traits of Miss Farren, of the Duke of Portland, and 
of Lord Abercorn's two sons in Vandyke dresses ; 
Zoffany his two Indian pictures of ' The Tiger Hunt,' 
himself being introduced, seated in all the pomp of 
Eastern magnificence, and of the ' Cock Fight.' Of 
the two men standing in the foreground, whose birds 
are supposed to have been brought to the cruel 
sport, one is a portrait of the late Colonel Martin, of 
Leeds Castle in Kent, who on coming to this country 
was introduced to the family of his friend Zoffany, 
whose acquaintance he had made in India. He im- 
mediately demanded the hand of Cecilia Zoffany in 
marriage, she being then about sixteen or seventeen 
years old, and beautiful in the extreme. The Colonel 
was a fine, handsome-looking man, amiable and kind- 
hearted, and of immense property. She, foohsh girl, 
refused this eligible offer, and he retired to his castle 
disappointed and mortified. He hved secluded, and 
at his death left his riches to a family of the name of 
Wykeham, strangers to him, as he had no relatives. 
His castle became a complete ruin. ; 


Cecilia contrived to fall in love with Mr. Thomas 
Horn of Chiswick, fearing that her father would 
marry her to some one she could not bear, as she 
termed it. He was an amiable man, but extremely 
plain, and not very prepossessing. His habits were 
retiring, and he devoted himself to the school which 
his father kept at Chiswick with universal honour 
and credit to himself. Both families entirely dis- 
approved of the match, but Thomas Horn was 
flattered by the preference of the young lady, and 
they were united. Mr. Zoffany afterwards recom- 
mended a general reconciliation on all sides, to 
encourage the young people to do well ; and at last 
they were received by both families. They had a 
fine family, and went on remarkably well. Zoflany 
painted a whole-length portrait of Dr. Horn, the 
father, in his full canonicals, with spirit, and in his 
first style of excellence. It was a capital likeness, 
and was exhibited. 

The young couple after a time had the school, 
which they continued upon the same plan at the 
Manor House, where all for some time proceeded 
well. Eventually, however, one circumstance and 
another brought on most unfortunate disputes, and 
the Horn family interfering too severely and very in- 
judiciously, Cecilia left her husband, and they were 
never again reconciled. 

Mrs. Zoffany had two more daughters after Mr. 


ZoflFany's return, now Mrs. Beachcroft and Mrs. 
Oliver, and as they grew up they were injudicious 
intruders at the Manor House, and it was principally 
through the violence of their tempers coming into 
collision with the equally bad ones of Mrs. Thomas 
Horn and of Miss Horn, that the disputes began 
which ended in the unhappy way that I have men- 
tioned. It was never supposed by Cecilia's friends 
that she acted criminally. Indiscreetly, certainly; 
for as her beauty never faded with her increasing 
years, her vanity kept pace with them ; but her un- 
happiness arose more from her dreadfully passionate 
temper than from any other cause. She evinced 
resentment and vindictiveness to her husband and 
her children, who gave him great trouble. 

The school diminished, not unnaturally. Thomas 
Horn therefore gave it up, and retired to his living, 
which was in the city of London. His wife died 

To return to our sdjour in town. The Jervois's 
would not remain over the birthday, principally on 
account of its being a gala day at Eton, their son 
being, as will be remembered, an Etonian. Mr. 
Burgess and our party at home enjoyed the sight of 
the boats &c. from Mr. Jervois's lawn, where they 
were invited to partake of the gaieties. 

We went as usual to the dressing-rooms of the 
Queen and Princesses — the little girls in their summer 


white frocks, sashes, the Princess's gifts, with ribbons 
to match in their caps, and their new long best 
gloves of a light colour, tied above the elbow ; I in 
my Abbey dress. 

The Queen had been struck with the appearance 
of the Jervois's, and asked me much about them. 
I repeated to her Majesty what I knew about their 
former life at Armagh, and about their arrangements 
since they came over to this country, and she 
answered that she thought they looked like rational 
people. Then she said, *And Baron Dillon — why 
did he join the chorus singers in the orchestra ? ' I 
told her Majesty that it was from a feeling of respect 
to the King, who patronised the Fund so liberally. 

Mr. Papendiek told me afterwards that the King 
would never be on friendly terms with the Baron, nor 
with any of his subjects who accepted honours from 
foreign potentates, especially without his permission, 
as in the Baron's and poor Zofiany's case. After all, 
the title is no more than knighthood ; not hereditary. 

After the dressing-room visits and our dinner, I 
went to see the company at the drawing-room. Mrs. 
and Miss Stowe passed ; the mother in some second- 
hand vamped-up dress ; the daughter in white silk, 
with aerophane petticoat and trimmings embroidered 
in silver, with blonde on the sleeves, neck, and stoma- 
cher, her mother's pearls and lappets. Miss Stowe 
was tall, of a lively, pleasing appearance, and looked 


remarkably well. Bell Stowe was with a friend in 
the King's presence-chamber, with ourselves, to see 
the company pass, and at night she sat with her 
mother at the ball, where her sister danced the last 
minuet with Lord Valletort, the present aged Earl of 
Mount Edgcumbe. 

It was difficult to get ball-room tickets on account 
of the small size of the apartment. The music-gallery 
was opposite to the seats of their Majesties, the 
Princes and Princesses, there being a gallery on each 
side for the spectators. I had only been once before, 
two or three years previous to the one I am writing 
of, but I cannot recollect exactly which year, to see 
the Prince Ferdinand of Wurtemberg, who had come 
over to ask the Princess Augusta in marriage, then 
certainly the most beautiful creature one could wish 
to behold. On the Queen's birthday he danced at 
Court, and in order to see his beauty and elegant 
manner Mr. Papendiek got us tickets for the following 
birthday ball. But, alas, in the meantime the King 
had refused his suit, and he sat in the background 
and would not come foi-ward. He was two removes 
from the dukedom, besides which the King would 
not let the younger Princesses marry before the elder. 
Prince Ferdinand was in the Austrian service, and 
signally distinguished himself in the taking of Bel- 
grade from the Turks. 

The Stowes soon after this left London for their 


home in the North, and about three years later they 
returned to London to present Bell, but she did not 
dance at court. They went to the same lodging, 
and when I called upon them I was received with the 
same warmth of friendship. I was then with the 
Queen, and had no home to ask them to, which they 
were aware of, but which I regretted. They re- 
mained only the one season, and then went back 
to the North, where soon after their being settled in 
their home the youngest married a Scotch baronet, 
of the name of Kinloch. He had property quite 
equal to hers, but was of an imbecile mind, and 
much older than Bell Stowe. He died soon, leaving 
an heir and two daughters. 

The widow now (1838) Uves in Eaton Place, 
Belgrave Square. The young baronet. Sir David 
Kinloch, studied under the Eev. Morrice, where my 
eldest daughter's son, Adolphus Oom, at the same 
time received part of his education. The eldest 
daughter married, long after, a minister, Mr. Ryder, 
and resided wholly in Yorkshire. 

As long as the mother lived these ladies never 
visited London without calhng, at her express desire, 
to see me, but since the death of dear, dear Mrs. 
Stowe, I have totally lost sight of the daughters. 

I now had to get my little girls' summer bonnets, 
and went to Mrs. Barlow's for them. They were 
not expensive, the two being under a guinea. Mr. 



Barlow, on his marriage, did not give up his lucrative 
business in Tavistock Street, Covent Garden, but 
made Miss Wolfe sole superintendent of it ; a charge 
which she was fully capable of undertaking. He 
supplied from his shop the materials required by his 
wife for her business, and the two concerns worked 
together well. They were an industrious couple, and 
brought up a large family respectably, the sons to 
different trades, and the daughters apprentices to 
their mother. 

We all missed Salomon's concert, which my 
cousin told me was not full. Mr. Papendiek dined 
with him one day after that, and handed him into 
the carriage, when he set off for Vienna to engage 
either Mozart or Haydn for the ensuing winter. 

Mr. Papendiek took Mr. Jervois two or three 
times to hear the concerts at the Queen's House, and 
the ladies of the family to see that elegant mansion 
on one of the mornings when the Queen was out. 

Our visit to London was in all respects successful, 
and we were met warmly again on our return home. 
Charles Papendiek had hastened to London to be 
present at the Abbey meeting, and to be fitted up 
with clothes and linen. A good deal of his outfit 
was done at home, so as to save expense, but this, of 
course, gave me trouble and work. 



Death of the Governor of the Round Tower— Mrs. Meyer and her sons — 
John Meyer — Charlotte's music — ^Their Majesties propose vidting 
Weymouth — Shaw House — The doctors and the King — ^Double 
carriages with cane bodies — ^The Princesses — ^The Princess Royal and 
her mother — ^The Papendiek girls constantly at the Lodge — John 
Meyer taken ill — Sixpenny schoolmistress — ^First 'Royal mail' to 
Weymouth — Princess Amelia at Eastbourne — The King benefited 
by the sea air — Charlotte visits her grandmother — Dissolution of 
Parliament — Mr. Papendiek becomes a 'Denizen' — The Queen's 
punctiliousness — Mr. Montagu — Mrs. Papendiek's last visit to Ken- 
sington — Dr. Majendie — Mrs. Trimmer — Mrs. Majendie — Domestic 
disturbances — Terrific wind — Frightful storm at the end of November 
— ^The chimney falls — Great damage done generally — Frederick 
breeched — ^The joke &lls flat — ^The Blagrores — Mrs. Meyer and her 
son — Rebeccai the artist — Amusing talent — Coloured sands — Hawes 
— Miss Miers, a violin player — Famous breakfast rolls — ^The Widow 
Hodgson — Death of notable personages. 

In the King's household the death of the Duke of 
Montague made a vacancy, as he had been Governor 
of the Eound Tower. His nephew, Lord Viscount 
Brudenell, had made an offer of marriage to Lady 
EHzabeth Waldegrave, which their Majesties favoured, 
and the King created him Earl of Cardigan and gave 
him the vacant post. Another acquisition was brought 
to the Eoyal party by the appointment of Lady 
Mary Howe to succeed Lady Elizabeth. 



The marriage, however, did not take place till 
the beginning of the following year. 

Towards the end of the month (June) I received 
a letter from Mrs. Meyer to say that she was coming 
over to Eton to place her son William at the College, 
and would dine with us, if so convenient, bringing 
her son John. I was delighted, and I invited 
Caroline from Mrs. Eoach's to meet her mother and 
brothers. It was a Sunday on which she proposed 
coming, but for so dear a friend I could not say nay. 
The scholars are usually entered at Eton a month 
before the vacation, that the masters may have time 
to find out their acquirements and place them 
accordingly before the re-opening of the school. 
William was about fifteen ; John, a year or more 
older, but he was designed for the East Indies, either 
in the military or the civil service, and Mrs. Meyer 
had not made up her mind how to fill up his time 
in the interval. These hopefuls had just left Dr. 
Crawford's school at the Manor House, and I beUeve 
it was just about this time that Dr. Horn established 
himself there. In looking round our house Mrs. 
Meyer discovered the cubby-hole of a room ad- 
joining the nursery, the fourth, as I have before 
described, on that floor, and she said in a moment, 
•• I wish you would take John, and let him sleep 
here.' I pointed out every objection to the plan, but 
with her engaging, persuasive manner she overruled 


them all, and I reluctantly agreed to take him at a 
guinea a week. He arrived as soon as we were 
ready to receive him, and did not prove at all an 
agreeable inmate. He was very restless, never ready 
for our meals, and inattentive to all my regulations. 
I told him after a week that his remaining with us 
would depend upon himself; that our time was laid 
out in convenience to the hours at the Lodge, and 
that from that moment I should never wait for him, 
but should expect him to be exact to the stipulations 
made with his mother. I put him in the way of 
reading with dictionaries and maps, bought him the 
books &c. that he required, and things then went 
on better. 

The little girls passed their days at Mrs. Eoach's. 
Frederick was teaching himself to spell by placing 
the letters of the alphabet on the ground, and I 
was always fully occupied. Poor Georgy could not 
walk yet. He was never quite well, and suddenly 
threw out an eruption all over him, of a hard, not 
watery substance, almost like warts. Some spoke 
of smallpox, but Dr. Mingay did not give it a name. 
He very soon after inoculated him, but it did not 
take, and he certainly never had that disease. We 
kept him in the air as much as possible, and he got 
better, but was far from strong. 

During Mrs. Eoach's hohdays, Charlotte con- 
tinued her music lessons with Eodgers at home, and 


progressed nicely. The idea of learning music was 
awakened in young Meyer's mind, and he began with 
Rodgers also. When his brother went home for the 
holidays, John accompanied him for a few days, and 
on Mr. Papendiek going to Kew with the Eoyal 
family, he called upon Mrs. Meyer to inquire her 
opinion on our proceedings, when she expressed 
herself as more than pleased, and said he was an 
altered being. She confided to Mr. Papendiek that 
she had discovered a growing attachment between 
him and Miss Green, which could not be allowed to 
go on, as she was at least five years older than he 
was, and the family would think it a wrong thing 
to be encouraged. 

On his return to us, poor fellow, I could not 
help feeling an interest in him. Miss Green, though 
very plain, was clever, lively, and engaging, and they 
had grown up together from childhood. We pur- 
sued the same rules as before, and I allowed him 
to practise in the drawing-room in the afternoons. 

This season their Majesties were to pass six 
weeks only at Weymouth, principally for the purpose 
of sailing, and they were to visit only in the 

Before they started they were to pass single days 
with the different noblemen near Windsor ; and a 
day being appointed for the Eoyalties to go to Lord 
Ailesbury's at Tottenham Park, Sir Joseph Andrews 


came over to Windsor to ask if they would stop at 
Shaw to breakfast, or if they would honour him with 
further commands. The Queen saw him, and ex- 
pressed her thanks for his continued loyalty, and 
fully explained to him her fears that on the King's 
account it would be better not to accept his invi- 
tation. Her Majesty, however, agreed that they 
should changes horses immediately in froiit of Shaw 
Lawn, which would give the company an oppor- 
tunity of seeing them. 

It was a fine day, and the Royal Family were in 
sociables, and stood up, bowing and smiling graciously 
to the assembled multitude. The Andrews family, 
the Mayor of Newbury, the principal townspeople, 
the nobility and gentry of the neighbourhood, with 
two bands of music, made an imposing display. 

At that time we were not personally acquainted 
with Sir Joseph, but in after days we became 
intimate friends. He always spoke with pleasure of 
the manner in which my father and Mr. Papendiek 
received him at Windsor and introduced him to the 

The present object of the doctors was to prevent 
the King from dozing during the day, and also to try 
and keep him from brooding over things too closely. 
The French Eevolution was going on, and afiairs in 
that country were becoming very serious. Holland, 
too, was unsettled, and they were very anxious that 


his Majesty should be called upon to do as little 
business as possible. 

The King could not be on horseback after 12 
o'clock, as the heat of the sun on his head was much 
feared. The Queen, therefore^ had three double car- 
riages made with cane bodies, and covered in with 
silk or oilskin, according to the weather, and thus 
they were enabled to pay noon visits to the sweet 
country seats near at hand, and beguile the time 
until dinner, at four. 

It was during this year that on the Queen* being 
told that she must devote her time to everything that 
might benefit the King's health, her Majesty made 
the foUowiog observation: 'Then I pity my three 
younger daughters, whose education I can no longer 
attend to.' 

I beheve we must all admit that it fell short of 
that of the three elder Princesses, who after they had 
left the schoolroom continued to be constantly 
employed ; and from the excellent examples before 
them of industry and unselfishness, combined with 
their own perseverance and other good quaUties 
which had been inculcated from their youth by their 
mother, were rendered not only very clever women, 
but thoroughly useful members of society. 

The Princess Eoyal, unfortunately, just at this 
time, rather set herself against the Queen. She was 
incensed at her constantly inviting to Windsor the 


daughters of such famihes as were attached to the 
Government party, saying that they could not amuse 
the King, but only ran idly about the house, inter- 
rupting everybody; and she desired her lady in 
waiting to tell all these visitors that she never 
received anyone in the morning. Her Koyal High- 
ness now averred that she had never hked the Queen, 
from her excessive severity, that she had doubted her 
judgment on many points, and went so far as to say 
that she was a silly woman. 

The Princess undertook to look after the in- 
struction of Princess Ameha, and had she, poor thing, 
enjoyed only tolerable health, she must have greatly 
improved under the tuition of the Princess Koyal. 
Charlotte was of the same age as Princess AmeUa, 
and passed very many mornings with her in this 
advantageous way, and improved rapidly. 

Madame de Lafitte attended at the Lodge three 
times a week to teach the Princess Koyal German, 
which -imprinted an awe on the minds of my girls of 
the attention learning required. Her Koyal Highness 
was also completing a set of drawings, and would 
allow Eliza to come sometimes with her sister to see 
her draw, and she would give little easy bits to 
try and copy, and so encouraged the taste she began 
to show for that branch of art. She was indeed most 
kind to them both, and the way in which our child- 
ren were taken up at the Lodge gave them respect 


among many, although I truly hope and verily be- 
lieve that they never at any time showed any feeling 
of vanity or superiority among their young friends 
on this account. 

One morning, a little while before the Eoyal 
Family left for Wejnnouth, young Meyer, on coming 
down to breakfast, complained of sore throat. In a 
few moments Dr. Mingay was in the house, said it was 
inflammation of the glands of the throat, and should 
it increase within the next twenty-four hours he 
would have him removed. He put a large blister on 
from ear to ear, and bled him about the neck with 
leeches. Then he arranged his bed so that the 
window could be open during the day, and the door 
shut. Spiced vinegar was to be constantly kept hot 
about the passages, and as much air let into the 
house as possible. At night all appeared to be going 
on favourably. Dr. Mingay's assistant came round, 
dressed and renewed the blisters, and gave directions 
about the medicines, which were to be given by Mr. 
Papendiek or myself. 

The following morning Dr. Mingay was with us 
very early in dishabiUe — velvet cap, no wig, shppers, 
and dressing gown, which at once proclaimed to the 
neighbours that something was wrong. He was 
satisfied with his patient, and now said that the 
illness would not become infectious, although Meyer 
was of a gross and unhealthy habit. 


Within a week he was able to leave his room, and 
then soon began to take short walks abroad, in which 
I accompanied him, as Mr. Papendiek could not, and 
the poor boy was not yet fit to go out alone. How- 
ever, in another week or so, all was as it had been 
before, except that I had taken my little Georgy to 
Kensington, as I feared for him, being so excessively 
deUcate, in the atmosphere of sickness, even though 
the illness was pronounced to be not absolutely 

As I could not spare my nurse, I got a girl who 
had often been recommended to me, the sister of the 
sixpenny schoolmistress, to take charge of baby, 
under my mother's eye. She took him into the 
gardens nearly aU day long, and was so attentive to 
him, proving herself a most excellent, trustworthy 
creature, that he decidedly improved under her care, 
and my mother insisted upon keeping them a fort- 
night longer than I had proposed. 

During this interval the preparations for the 
journey to Weymouth had been going on, and some 
time in the month of August the Eoyal party left 
Windsor. The first two carriages were filled by 
their Majesties, the three elder Princesses, and the 
three ladies in waiting ; the equerries had their own 
coach. Then followed Misses Burney and Planta in 
a chaise ; Messrs. Bowman and Duncan in another 
chaise ; and my father, my husband, and Messrs. 


Kamus and Grieswell in a coach. The women, 
Sandys, Mackenthum, Willes, and Turner went by 
the mail, which was started this season for the first 
time, and purposely for the accommodation of the 
Eoyal Family, taking the title on this account of the 
' Royal Mail/ It had, nevertheless, the privilege of 
taking ordinary passengers and luggage if any 
spare accommodation were found after Royalty was 

The Royal travellers, with their suite, just enu- 
merated, slept the first night at Andover, and the 
following day proceeded to Weymouth. Princess 
AmeUa had been for some weeks past at Eastbourne, 
and the Princesses Mary and Sophia remained at 

There was nothing that I can recollect of any 
particular interest to recount of this trip to Wey- 
mouth, but it was successful as far as the King's 
health was concerned, as his Majesty returned 
considerably refreshed and invigorated by the 

On the return home of my little Georgy, Char- 
lotte went on a visit to Kensington for a month. 
She resumed her lessons with Theodore Smith, and 
my brother taught her, as before, much useful know- 
ledge. She dawdled about, too, after her grand- 
mother, and helped her to pick fruit and do many 
little things in the house, and by this means caught 


sight of many female duties and employments, which 
through life she never forgot. 

During the six weeks of the summer hohdays, 
Mrs. Blagrove sent her boys with Mr. Burgess to the 
coast, to give them sea breezes after the measles. 

We went on quietly at home, and not much of 
incident occurred. The children took great pleasure 
in walking every afternoon to see the mail start 
from the King's Mews in St. Albans Street. Poor 
little dears — they always thought it ran better when 
a letter of ours to their dear father was in the basr. 

In one of these perambulations I met Mrs. 
Clarke, who, it will be remembered, was with her 
husband and family put into that excellent house 
near the corner of Sheet Street, at the time that the 
King had made John Clarke one of his junior pages, 
and I believe their son and daughter are living there 
to this day. 

As Mr. Brown and Mr. Montagu were in the 
same house, neither had a vote ; nor had Grieswell, 
who was put into a cottage within the yard belonging 
to the Clerk of the Works' house. This was un- 
fortunate, as a dissolution of Parhament was about 
to take place, or had already come to pass, and it 
was with the utmost difficulty that we could bring in 
two Government members, the Eadicals having such 
great interest, with Eamsbottom, the Queen's ale 
brewer, at their head. Lord Mornington, the present 


Marquis of Wellesley, was one of the new members, 
but who came in with him I regret to say I cannot 
recollect. We were delighted to hear the men of 
the choir singing the glees and hymns composed by 
his lordship's father and grandfather, as they passed 
in the procession. 

The election did not take place till November, so 
Mr. Papendiek was on the spot to give his vote, on 
which occasion he became a * Denizen,' the only 
reward for his long attendance in the King's illness.^ 
The Queen never approved of the King's doing any- 
thing for her people ; yet John Clarke was her 
footman, so we felt a little pang at not having that 
desirable house, especially as his Majesty had once 
intended to grant one. 

GriesweD at that time fully hoped to marry Miss 
Mackenthum, so he secured the cottage at 11/. a 
year, the rent being afterwards raised to 15/. Mrs. 
Montagu did not come to Windsor on account of the 
intrusion of Brown, so Mr. Montagu took his leisure 
days at Kew, his services never being required at 

After the return of the travellers, my father 
would have me to pass the end of October with them 

^ The common acceptation of the word ' Denizen ' does not suggest 
any idea of reward to our minds, but in days past it appears to have 
borne another signification. Dr. Brewer, in his Dictionary of Phrase and 
Fable, says : ' Denizen — a made citizen ; i.e. an alien who has been 
naturalised by letters patent (old French, donaison, a free gift).' 


at Kensington, telling me that it would be my last 
visit, as the three years' lease was drawing to a close, 
and he did not think of renewing it. Mr. Papendiek 
said he would spare me, so I took Eliza with me, 
and we stayed near a fortnight. The weather was 
heavenly, and those beautiful gardens were in the 
autumn exquisitely charming. It was a hard parting, 
and I could even now drop a tear at the recollection 
of those days. 

The Queen, on being again settled at home, re- 
sumed her accustomed duties, and Dr. Majendie, who 
had been promised the living of Windsor, now under- 
took the parochial business of the place, with every 
due exertion. Dr. John Bostock, who then held it, 
was decUning fast, and no longer left his room, and 
the work of the parish was somewhat neglected. 
Dr. Majendie came to the Queen to represent to her 
the very unsatisfactory state in which he found the 
schools, and advised her Majesty to request Mrs. 
Trimmer to come down to Windsor to regulate 
them. She shortly arrived with one of her daughters, 
and was lodged with Madame de Lafitte. Mrs. 
Thackaray, who had hitherto had the charge of the 
schools, as I have before mentioned, was, no doubt, 
an excellent woman, but having early lost her 
mother, and being bred in the lap of affluence, she 
seemed lost when adversity fell upon her, and in- 
capable of exertion. Mrs. Trimmer soon set the 


whole in excellent order, and Madame de Lafitte, 
taking an active part in the business, induced many 
of the ladies of the neighbourhood to attend as 
visitors, out of respect to the Queen. 

Mrs. Trimmer did not approve of our having re- 
duced the Sunday School to a certain number ; but 
as that had been suggested partly by me, I begged 
Dr. Majendie to explain to her that the town of 
Windsor itself contained a great many poor families, 
and that with the horse and foot barracks in addition, 
the number of children was at least six or seven 
hundred — too many for a limited number of teachers 
to look after properly. Three hundred was our 
present number, the girls and boys being divided. 
Each girl had a cap, tippet, and print gown given to 
her to put on when she came to school at nine 
o'clock on a Sunday morning, the parents being 
desired to send their children cleanly washed, and 
with decent shoes and stockings. They were taught 
to read, and to repeat the Catechism, and were after- 
wards taken to church, the same for a shorter time 
being carried on again in the afternoon. 

Dr. Majendie, having seen all things settled, left 
home for a short time, and before he went, he entreated 
his wife, if she should go to the assembly, not to 
dance, as he did not think her well. She was a tall, 
very pretty, and very brilliant-looking woman, and 
the officers and gentlemen were always a little jocose 


with the doctor for keeping her so closely quiet to 
himself. This night, finding her only under the 
protection of Miss Buckeridge, the lady patroness, 
and the Lady Bountiful of the town, an old maid 
living with her brother, affluent, gay, and overbear- 
ing, Mrs. Majendie was beset, and at length prevailed 
upon to dance. The consequence was that she was 
taken ill in the night, and her constitution was so 
weakened by this illness that most of the children 
who were born after it died in decUne. 

She was a Miss Eoutledge, and with her widowed 
mother and sister had come over from Ireland during 
the troubles there. They established themselves in 
the smaller house at the corner of Datchet Bridge, 
and seeing a good deal of company the young ladies 
were soon brought into notice. Dr. Majendie made 
an ofier to the sister, who told him that her affections 
were engaged, but that as he expressed so much 
regard for their family she would candidly own that 
her sister's heart was free. The proposal was 
accepted, and she became the wife. Miss Eoutledge 
was a quiet, interesting person, of an excellent under- 
standing, with a sweet face, and a disposition rather 
retiring than brilliant, Hke her sister, Mrs. Majendie. 
She had fallen in love with Dr. Fisher, whom I have 
already mentioned as having been for some time 
engaged to a lady in Devonshire. Miss Eoutledge, 
as will be supposed, never married. She assisted in 



bringing up her sister's children, to the no small 
gratification of the doctor. When the living became 
vacant he established himself with his family in the 
Parsonage, immediately opposite to the parish church. 
He fixed Mrs. Thackaray and her family in his house 
in the Cloisters, reserving to himself two rooms for 
his use when in residence. 

A curious incident happened in our family about 
this time. One morning, our servant Milly knocked 
at our door earlier than usual, and asked to speak to 
her master, who went out to her in his dressing- 
gown. Then she showed him that the parlour 
window was open, and that a board had been fixed 
from it over the railings, by which means our lad, 
who was missing, must have escaped with his livery. 
Mr. Papendiek at once went to the mother's house, 
where he found the lad, who said, * I intended, sir, 
in the course of the day to return the livery, which 
I would not have put on had I had any other clothes. 
I unfortunately fell in love with your nurse, and 
though she is much older than myself I meant to 
marry her ; but finding that she granted her favours 
to Mr. Burgess as well as to myself, I determined upon 
this step. I shall leave Windsor and service, and 
hope, sir, never to trouble you ; but should my 
mother ask your assistance, I trust you will befriend 
her.' Poor things ! we never heard of them after, 
and we determined to tell no one of the occurrence. 


I did not look out for another boy at once, as 
I did not wish to begin with a new servant before 
Christmas ; but I sent for the girl I had taken to 
Kensington, and by making a little fresh arrange- 
ment of the work of the house, we went on very 

The autumn of this year, 1790, was the most 
stormy season that I ever remember. The wind, 
which scarcely ceased for weeks, blew at times 
terrifically, and was accompanied by heavy showers 
or torrents of rain, and continued flashes of lightning. 
The lower ground round Windsor was entirely inun- 

Our house, which stood higher than those near it, 
was much exposed, particularly to the south-west, 
from which quarter the wind generally blew, and 
during one particular night, of which I, unfortunately, 
cannot recollect the exact date, but I think it must 
have been towards the end of November, a storm 
broke over us with great fury. We had proposed a 
little merry-making for the young ones, and I invited 
our relations from Mrs. Eoach's, and Miss Meyer, 
to sleep at our house, as I was able to accommodate 
them while Mr. Burgess and his charges were away. 
Our little evening being over at about eleven, or 
somewhat later, I saw them all safe in bed, and then 
we retired also. It had been, as usual, a stormy 
evening, but having undressed myself, and being 



tired, I thought I should soon sink into sleep, but for 
a time this was impossible. The night was too 
dreadful, and at about one o'clock the thunder and 
wind were both so loud and so incessant that you 
could scarcely tell one from the other. The lightning, 
too, went on at intervals, but, after a time, the storm 
seemed to abate a little, and nature being overpowered 
we slept. At about three o'clock, however, or rather 
after, we were thoroughly roused, for the noise was 
terrific. I took Georgy into my bed, while I sat up 
in my dressing-gown, and Frederick remained sleep- 
ing in the opposite comer. Mr. Papendiek went 
round to all the rooms with candles. The nurse now 
slept with Milly, but the young girl begged to come 
in to me. Charles Papendiek's door was locked, and 
he called out that he would rather encounter the 
elements than open his door to anyone, and in the 
morning he told us that his opinion was that people 
were often in the night struck with evil spirits, 
whence came murders and other horrors, so that he 
fastened his door and never opened it upon any pre- 
tence. The young ladies' door (Miss Meyer, my 
sister, and Charlotte) Mr. Papendiek also found 
locked, to our astonishment. He knocked and spoke, 
but received no answer, so we determined to Usten 
and watch, but not to disturb them. Their excuse 
in the morning was that they had locked their door 
fearincr the young men might come in for fun. 


Charlotte had heard part of the noise and spoke, 
but the others never woke, and she fell asleep again. 
Meyer was glad of a Ught. That side of our house 
not joining to any other was exposed to the full fury 
of the elements, and his bed, with him in it, had 
rolled upon its castors across the floor. Shortly 
before five came the dreadful crash. The garret 
chimney fell, and our house seemed shaken to its 
foundations. After this, though the Ughtning and 
rain went on, the thunder and wind somewhat 
abated. Poor little Fred had wakened up at last, 
and asked if I thought God were angry by sending 
such a storm. I took him into my bed, and he kept 
saying he would be good, but I tucked him up and 
kissed him, and he soon fell asleep again. 

The house was now up, fires hghted and breakfast 
laid. About seven Forrest called, being the first to 
inquire after us. He said that he found our house 
was in a direct line from his, and as the lightning 
had struck one or more of his chimneys, had broken 
several of his windows (the glass paintings having 
fortunately escaped unhurt), and had carried off the 
tops of trees and everything in its path, he feared 
we might also have sustained some damage. From 
him I learnt how the outside world had fared. The 
small belfry tower just at the back of the Delavauxs' 
house was destroyed, and many of their windows were 
broken ; most of the lamps in the streets also ; and 


the water was rushing down with such force that 
people could scarcely stand against it. In the night 
the watchmen sprung their rattles, and everybody 
was running about frightened. 

Jervois and others had been assisting More to get 
out from their stables his two teams of barge-horses, 
as they feared both fire and water. The poor animals 
were so frightened that this was accomplished with 
great difficulty, and then they were haltered in the 
open air. At one time the water did rush in, but 
in the course of the day it subsided, and all seemed 
hushed into a quiet growling of the wind. 

Mrs. Trimmer mentions the storm in her Life, 
and says that the water poured down the streets of 
Brentford so violently that she could not cross over 
to the school ; and I heard of considerable damage 
being done in various parts of the country. 

Our fears appeased, we returned to our usual 
employments, and on Christmas day we found our- 
selves a quiet family party. 

On this day our dear Frederick was breeched, and 
a total change of dress it then was for a boy. The 
shirt was made like a man's, except that the collar 
was large and frilled, and turned over the jacket 
instead of being buttoned up. The jacket and trou- 
sers were of cloth, the latter being buttoned over 
the jacket, and the trousers only to the ankle bone. 
Buttons, in number, size, and shape, to taste. Boots 


for children being then unknown, they had gaiters, 
which went over the end of the trousers, and these 
with strong shoes equipped them very properly for 
walking. The greatcoat of the preceding year came 
in again, but he had a new hat and cane, and the 
sweet dear child looked, as he was, beautiful. 

After dinner on this Christmas day, his father 
took him to the Queen and Princesses, and he was 
then to eat plum pudding at the pages' table. Being 
considered fond of eating, the whole pudding was 
placed before him, when he laughed and said, * I am 
afraid I cannot eat it all, but 1 will take a slice,' so 
simply that the joke fell flat. About three of these 
suits in a year, or five in two years, did very well. 
Under-waistcoats and drawers were not then worn, 
so I had the lining of the trousers made separate, 
which ensured a proper cleanUness. Boys being in 
breeches was a convenience in comparison to their 
wearing frocks, or jean or nankeen tunics, which the 
higher ranks usually kept on till their boys were six 
or seven, my Fred being at this time scarcely four 
years old. 

We now turned our thoughts to the nurse, on 
whose uncle Mr. Papendiek called. He was greatly 
incensed at the conduct of his niece, and quite agreed 
with us that she should leave Windsor, as she could 
not expect a character for respectability. Frowd, the 
uncle, told Mr. Papendiek that it was the desire of 


Burgess and this girl to get rid of Meyer, so the 
one made mischief, or rather tried to make mischief, 
by talking to old Delavaiix of my undue attention to 
the boy, and the other by talking to people of her 
own class. The niece did leave Windsor, but returned 
to the place on her uncle's death some years after, 
and took up his business, having married a relation 
of the same name. She was always civil, and offered 
her services to us, saying she should ever remember 
with gratitude our kindness in not exposing her. 

When I was with the Queen, I had many oppor- 
tunities of dealing with her for trifles, which her 
Majesty always made a point of purchasing from the 
smaller shops by way of encouragement, and for 
these favours I always found poor nurse Frowd 

Mrs. Blagrove wrote very soon to say that her 
sons were to enter at Eton before the Easter recess, 
where they would be lodged at a dame's, and 
consequently would not return to us. She said 
she hoped that their having remained with us a 
year and eight or nine months had fully covered 
the expense of furnishing the rooms for them. To 
that observation I could but answer in the affir- 
mative, and I added that I hoped she found them 
improved generally, for with the exception of their 
hours of study and exercise, they had passed their 
time entirely with us, and I had endeavoured to 


give them nice ways and gentlemanly manners. I 
also said that I hoped they felt the comfort of no 
illness or delicacy remaining from the measles. Mrs. 
Blagrove answered that she was satisfied^ but that 
for the attendance and care which I had observed 
Dr. Mingay had so liberally given, he had taken 
care to charge amply. These Blagroves never showed 
the slightest gratitude for my care, nor sent the 
most trifling remuneration to my servants, or even a 
remembrance to my children as playfellows of their 
boys, who never called; and what is really extra- 
ordinary, during their three years' residence at Eton 
we never once accidentally met. 

Mrs. Meyer also wrote to tell us that she had 
received letters from her son George, who was 
anxious that his brother should sail with the first 
ship, and that she was therefore using all despatch to 
equip him as cadet, which would prevent his re- 
turning to us. Thus we were at one fell swoop 
liberated from all inconvenience and from all super- 
fluous income ! 

During this autumn we had the celebrated Eebecca 
at Windsor to paint the borders of the canopy and 
throne-rooms in the Castle, and others of the state 
apartments. This served as another amusement to 
the King, who was constantly about with him watch- 
ing the progress of his painting. In the evenings 
Rebecca was generally in the music-room at the 


Lodge, with West, Herschel, or anyone who had the 
same privileges. His deceptive imitation of persons 
and things was so wonderful that he caused con- 
siderable amusement by this talent. I will mention 
one or two anecdotes as illustrations of his power. 

On one side of the music-room all these chance 
guests stood, while the other side was kept clear in 
case the Eoyalties should come in from the card-room, 
the harpsichord being in the centre, with the keys 
turned towards that door, the musicians standing 
round it in regular order. One evening Mr. Horn 
appeared to be standing a little apart, with his hands 
firmly clasped as usual, and in everybody's way. An 
equerry came to request he would give room, as 
the King was coming. He did not move till Eebecca 
quickly darted forward, and carried the likeness to 
the end of the instrument, and placing the Hghts 
suitably, Horn then appeared to be standing there. 

Upon another occasion Horn was on the list to 
perform, and at the moment that his turn came, he 
appeared just upon the point of sitting down, with his 
left hand throwing back the skirt of his coat, the 
right hand being lifted up as if to steady the book. 

The King cried out, * Sit down, Horn — ^what, what ? 
sit down,' when Eebecca peeped up and said, * He 
will, your Majesty, as soon as I remove his efiigy.' 

Another evening when a small party was given at 
the Castle after the embeUishments were completed. 


the King went round with Eebecca to see the effect 
when lighted up. In one of the rooms a large coal 
was lying upon one of the superb new rugs, burning 
and smoking as if fallen from the fire in poking. 
The King called loudly, and turning to Harris, the 
master of the Castle, said, ' I have so often told you 
to be more careful of the fires.' Harris, of course, 
quickly ran forward, and picking up the coal threw 
it on the fire, shaking his hand as people do when 
they feel the burn. Coming up to the spot Eebecca 
said, * Did you bum your hand, Harris ? ' * Not 
much,' he answered. ' Look again, and at the rug,' 
then said Eebecca with a smile. *Poor feUow; it 
was only a bit of paper which you burnt.' The 
laugh, of course, was general. Many other jokes 
were practised by Eebecca, but I have told enough 
to show his cleverness. 

It was this season, too, I think, that Hawes, a 
German, decorated the ceiling of the card-room at 
the Lodge with coloured sands, from a design of 
West's, which represented the four quarters of the 
globe, with their different inhabitants and pro- 
ductions, with Britannia in the centre, calling them 
forth, as it were. This Hawes had been employed 
by the great confectioners to decorate their plateaux, 
and after a very short time had attracted universal 
notice. He begged to be allowed to do this ceiling, 
which was granted, and it lasted perfect for many 


years, only being destroyed when the Lodge was 
pulled down in George the Fourth's time. His 
manner of proceeding was to have sand of every 
colour and shade put into small paper bags, folded 
with a peak and a small aperture at the bottom, 
through which he threw the sand on to a board 
covered with strong cement. It was certainly a 
wonderful art to judge exactly the effect that the 
sand would produce, but as he worked from copies 
for any performance of consequence there was no 
evidence of original talent, and nothing great to 
remain behind him, so his productions were soon 
forgotten, though he attained considerable excellence 
in his particular line. 

On the return of the Eoyal Family from Wey- 
mouth, Mrs. Deluc was very anxious to introduce a 
young friend of hers, a Miss Miers, then about sixteen, 
a violin player, and begged Mr. Papendiek to contrive 
a quartett, so that she should be heard. We fortu- 
nately found an evening that the Griesbachs could 
come, and with them she took the first violin parts in 
some of the best of Haydn's and Mozart's quartetts, and 
the second in others, and she could also take a tenor 
in accompaniment. Her father was a Jew, a violin 
player at Bath, and had taught his daughter since she 
was ten years old. She was now an orphan, for her 
mother, who was a Protestant and had brought up 
her daughter in the same faith, had died soon after 


her husband, and while the girl was still quite a child. 
The poor little thing was left under the guardianship 
of an alderman of the city of London, named Smith, 
who was a relation of the celebrated baker of that 
name at Isleworth, for many years famed for a roll, 
which was sought after far and near, and of which a 
certain number were every morning put upon the 
breakfast-table of their Majesties. Mrs. Deluc was 
of Bath, though since her marriage she had lived at 
Windsor, and this, together with the Isleworth con- 
nection, probably led to the child being placed at 
school there. My daughters can only remember her 
as Widow Hodgson. 

Her playing was thought good as far ^s it went, 
and had a professional tinge about it. The organist 
at Isleworth was a good musician, and under him she 
had continued to cultivate the talent she undoubtedly 
possessed with great industry. 

It was Mrs. Deluc's object that Miss Miers should 
play at the King's concert, and wished Mr. Papendiek 
after hearing her twice to propose it to the Queen ; 
but he naturally said that as Mr. Deluc was with 
her Majesty every day, madame constantly with the 
Princesses, and the young person her own friend, 
why should he, Mr. Papendiek, make the proposal 
and not themselves ? The fact was that they were 
both too sly to venture upon what they knew the 
Queen did not hke, but that Mr. Papendiek should 


bear the odium was what they would have liked. 
The Misses Bumey and Planta were of the party 
chez nous when Miss Miers played, and the latter 
repeated the whole story to the Princesses, for them 
to act in the matter as they thought best. They 
considered that Mr. Deluc could do no harm by 
mentioning the girl to the Queen ; but he would not, 
and so the matter dropped, and Miss Miers went to 
her guardian in London. 

About a year or more after, Mr. Hodgson, a Jew, 
married her. He was in good business, had a town 
house and a cottage at Clapham, but kept no 
carriage. ' Mrs. Hodgson had eight children ; out of 
all of them only the eldest and youngest boys lived. 
The husband would not allow her to touch her in- 
strument, but by stealth she endeavoured as much as 
possible to keep it up. Her abilities, the very small 
pittance they brought her, her subsequent mis- 
fortunes and early death, are all well known to my 
daughters, and need not be further described. 
Before Mr. Hodgson died his business decUned, 
which no doubt brought on his death prematurely. 
Ultimately, of course, the house failed. 

During this year occurred several deaths .among 
the great or noteworthy people of the world, a few 
of which I will mention. 

Henry, Duke of Cumberland, the King's brother, 
died in the summer, and Mrs. BiUington by his death 


lost a liberal protector. The King allowed the 
widowed Duchess to keep Cumberland Lodge, at the 
top of the Long Walk, in Windsor Great Park, but 
all his Koyal Highness's fine instruments were sold by 
pubUc auction. 

Joseph n.. Emperor of Germany, died this year 
also. He was a kind friend to Mr. Papendiek while 
at Vienna with Wendling, and to Zoffany while in 
Tuscany and Vienna a great patron, conferring upon 
him, as I have before mentioned, the order of Baron 
of the Holy Roman Empire. His loss was much felt 
in Germany, and he was deservedly lamented. 

Lord Heathfield died at Aix-la-Chapelle. He 
was the renowned Elliot, Governor of Gibraltar, who 
defended that stronghold in 1787 with red-hot balls. 

And the great comedian, Edwin, died in October. 



Evening entertainment given by Lady Charlotte Finch to the younger 
Princesses — Monetary difficulties — Frederick goes as a day scholar — 
George at last walks — Anatomical fever — John Meyer turns out 
badly — He dies on his way to India — Mrs. Blagrove and Mr. Papen- 
diek — The servant Milly — Mrs. Papendiek losing health — Mrs, 
Papendiek goes to London — The Royal Academy — Lawrences 
picture — Artistes from Paris — Madame Krumpholtus — More Abbey 
concerts— The Papendiek boys visit the King — David — Mrs. Roach 
and Miss Albert — Regret at leaving the house at Windsor — Miss 
Knissel — Mr. Cumberland — Miss Frederica Mackenthum — Dismissal 
of Miss Bumey — Violent storm — Sad death of Mrs. Pick — The 
Papendieks take a house in Dean's Yard— They settle down — ^Dif- 
ficulties with Delavaux — The Queen's observations. 

The old year closed quietly and happily, and the 
new year of 1791 opened favourably as to health 
and the comforts around us, and a continuance of 
such blessings as called for our grateful thanks to an 
all-merciful Providence. 

To the younger Princesses and their schoolroom 
attendants Lady Charlotte Finch gave an evening en- 
tertainment on the first of January. Their Majesties 
and the elder Princesses were also of the party. The 
Pieldings and others of their friends acted a short 
play, after which dancing finished the evening. 

The supper was excellent and elegant. A trifle 


was considered a new year's dish, and to make the 
supper interesting this was served on a plateau by 
Hawes. This depicted the principal events that had 
taken place during the preceding year of pleasurable 
recollection : — the Mornington election ; the glees 
printed on ribbons ; Bebecca with his palette, copied 
from an original of his own; a rowing match at 
Eastbourne ; the Eoyal Weymouth Mail, and many 
other devices. The trifle reaching the whole length 
of the table within the plateau and being entirely 
white, the contrast was brilliant and the effect new. 
Deep Wedgwood* dishes, all of the same size, being 
placed close together with the froth carried over the 
edges, the divisions were not seen, and they had the 
effect of one long dish. 

Highly delighted were the juvenile branches of 
the famiUes present, and on the whole the intention 
of the hostess was successful. 

I do not remember any occurrence among our 
friends, either as to Christmas meetings and fes- 
tivities, or in any other way, that calls for any 
particular comment before the Eoyal Family left 
Windsor for the birthday. I went up with the chil- 
dren to take leave, telling the Queen and my friends 
at the Lodge that I could not this time manage the 
going to town. Mr. Papendiek took K5hler's second 
floor, and his brother went with him, but they were 
only a very short time absent. 



Now, being alone, I took the opportunity of 
looking into our monetary affairs. I laid my bills 
before me, which I well knew could not be paid this 
quarter, and calculated how best to arrange matters. 

On Mr. Papendiek's return we settled to pay the 
small ones, and Webb, who was grocer, butterman, 
tallow chandler, &c., was to be paid in part, and the 
same with Delavaux for coals and wood. 

He, as I expected would be the case, was very 
unkind about it, spoke of his recommendation of 
Burgess and the Blagrove boys, and added that if we 
could not settle his account then it must accumulate, 
and we should find it still more difficult. Of course 
I knew this was true, but there are certain things 
one must have, and I hoped to see my way a little 
more clearly in the future. 

Our income was still the same, 200/. a year for 
the page's appointment, lOW. for chamber bond, 25/. 
allowed for lodging, with certain regular perquisites, 
two and a half dozen of pitcher wine per annum, two 
tallow candles a night in winter and one in summer, 
besides a few chance perquisites from the Princesses* 
room, shared equally with Duncan. 

We determined not again to take inmates, al- 
though the furniture was there and paid for, but to 
resume our former mode of living, with two maids 
and a helping man. My nice little maid found our 
work too much for her, which I feared would be the 


case from her delicate health, occasioned by scrofula. 
I engaged another servant, who settled with us, but 
as I cannot recollect who she was she cannot have 
excited any great interest.. 

We further determined to send Frederick as a 
day-scholar to Mr. Ward's, and to keep the girls at 
home under my tuition, not paying Mrs. Eoach any- 
thing for the next quarter, which intelligence she 
received with her usual friendliness. Eodgers was 
still to give his 2s. Qd. lesson twice a week. 

We confined ourselves to one fire in the parlour, 
where stood the pianoforte, and one in the nursery. 
The cradle was brought during the day into the 
parlour, as George did not yet walk, and I could 
leave him sitting in it with his playthings and Fred 
as his guard while I was busied near at hand. 

One day I heard loud talking, rocking, and laugh- 
ing, and hastily running to see what had happened I 
found George out of the cradle, which Fred said he 
had managed by himself, standing by its side and 
rocking it violently. He tried in a passion to tell me 
something against Fred, whom he called Pletty, the 
only word he attempted to say for some time, but he 
was firm on his feet, and from the day of this event 
he walked alone. The exercise seemed to improve 
him, and he gradually gained strength. 

Frederick now began going to school. He 
begged to be allowed to walk there alone instead of 

R 2 


being sent with a maid. Accordingly Mr. Papendiek 
stood at the door to watch him safely across the 
road, when he turned to the bridge in mistake, but 
soon recollecting himself he looked at his hands to 
be sure which was right and left, and then proceeded, 
Mr. Papendiek following at a distance unperceived. 
Dear child, he knocked at the door and entered 
cheerfully, and on his return at twelve o'clock he 
told us he was placed among the best-looking boys, 
and was pleased with the whole concern. 

Fortunately the usher was a Frenchman, just 
arrived from the Academy in Paris, very clever and 
of good manners, as the French usually are. His 
name was Deltit. He took a fancy to Frederick, and 
immediately began Latin with him, and Mr. Ward 
told us that at Easter he should put him to writing 
and to begin figures, for that his capacity was so 
good and his mind so eager for employment that they 
scarcely knew how to fill up the school hours. I 
begged Mr. Ward, nevertheless, to feel his way with 
him and not to urge him too forcibly, as the child 
was only now barely four years old. 

While the days were short and the weather not 
favourable afternoon school was often unattended, 
and when Charles Papendiek came back there was 
generally a fire in the small parlour, which gave 
ample room for play when he was not in it. 

Until Lent their Majesties and the elder Prin- 


cesses were at Windsor from Friday till Monday in 
each week, and most of these days Charles Papendiek 
dined at the Lodge with his brother and the one or 
two other pages who came down in attendance. 

About this time my brother was seized with the 
anatomical fever, and was considered in great danger 
for several days. Mr. Ijong and the hospital phy- 
sician attended him, and one of the nurses, termed 
sisters, of the establishment was sent to take care of 
him. An assistant of Mr. Devaynes, named Middle- 
ton, also took particular interest in his recovery, and 
the few nights that he was at the worst, this friend 
would sit up with him as well as the nurse, as it was 
necessary to give him nourishment constantly in the 
smallest quantities, to bathe his nostrils with port 
wine, to pour it down his throat with a quill, and 
to watch him incessantly. 

In about three weeks the fever had quite left 
him, and he was taken into the country, where he 
rapidly recovered, even to increased cheerfulness. 
Every precaution was taken to disinfect and purify 
the rooms he had used. They were well ventilated 
with fire and free air, and with burnt spices, vinegar, 
and tobacco leaves, his clothes, bedding, &c., being 
all washed in Ume water or destroyed. 

After his recovery he would not come to Wind- 
sor, preferring to remain nearer London for the 
benefit of medical advice. When he returned to his 


duties at the hospital, we were surprised and alarmed 
at hearing that he was taken at once to the dis- 
secting rooms ; but Mr. Long assured us it was best, 
as, should he be affected by it, they would at once 
remove him, and no harm could happen; but the 
much more serious evil of being obliged to relin- 
quish his profession, for which he had shown great 
abihties, this, I am thankful to say, did not occur, 
and the fever left no ill effects. 

Mr. Papendiek, during one of his attendances in 
London, went down to see Mrs. Meyer at Kew, who, 
to his surprise, seemed hurt that he had not acted 
more as a guardian to her son while he was with us, 
as he had got through a larger sum of money than 
she had been prepared for. 

Mr. Papendiek pointed out to her clearly that his 
duties never gave him time to look after any chance 
inmates of his house, scarcely even his own family ; 
that I had done my utmost to amuse him in a 
rational way at home, either with cards or back- 
gammon, of an evening when no music was going 
on or no friend had dropped in ; that in his hours 
of study I had endeavoured to help him in his 
reading by advice and sympathy ; and that as far 
as any knowledge of his expenses went, he had not 
so much as given the smallest doticeur to any of our 

She seemed to feel this account sensibly, and Mr. 


Papendiek would not leave her till she was fully 
convinced how much she had been in error with re- 
spect to our care and friendly treatment of one who 
now proved to have so little deserved it ; for I regret 
to add that he had turned out a great trial and 
trouble to his mother. 

He came down to Windsor to say adieu, and I 
was glad to see him, for I was sincere in all I had 
professed, both to him and to his dear mother, and I 
hoped the new life in India would give him a new im- 
petus to well doing, and an opportunity for breaking 
through bad habits and connections. 

Soon after he sailed, but a few days before the 
ship reached her destination, he died, having been 
seized with a return of that affection of the throat 
from which he suffered when with us. This brought 
on fever, and he sank under it. 

His brother George wrote, as may be imagined, 
most affectingly to his mother, transmitted the sum 
she had expended upon his outfit, and added 4,000/. 
more for the benefit of his family. William Meyer 
finished his term at Eton. We repeatedly asked him 
to dine with us on days that we knew he could ac- 
cept the invitation, but he constantly refused, and 
during the three or four years he was at school, he 
never even called. 

When the Blagroves arrived, Mr. Burgess was 
with them for a month, during which time he called. 


Mr. Papendiek gave him fully to understand that he 
was surprised at his conduct, both as regards the 
situation he held as a guardian of youth, and domes- 
ticated as he had been in our family. He affected at 
first not to understand to what Mr. Papendiek al- 
luded, and then would not admit any wrong on his 
part. He complained of the partiality we had shown 
to Meyer, when we had to remind him that he would 
never allow him to join in his walks, nor in the 
evening practices with Delavaux and Forrest when 
the smoking was so great that they always ad- 
journed to Burgess's parlour, thus throwing Meyer 
back on my hands. 

At that time Ealph West frequently came in, and 
then we read, or drew, or played piquet; but the 
moment he smelt the fumes of tobacco off he flew, 
and Jervois the same, for neither of them would sit 
at supper with Delavaux. 

Burgess had formed his opinion upon the whole, 
and had quietly been making his plans, and now said 
that as the boys were to have no private tutor, he 
was no longer necessary to the family, and should 
return to the West Indies, from whence he came. 
Mr. Blagrove's estate as a planter was in Jamaica, 
and Burgess had some connection with him. A fare- 
well shake of the hand separated us, and we never 
met after. 

Lady Day being now near, we began to consider 


what we should do with respect to our house, for 
five inmates having left us, after no inconvenient ac- 
commodation, it stood to reason that it must have 
been too large for our own immediate family. If 
the Cutlers, our landlords, had been willing to let us 
have the house on lease at 251. a year, we might 
have been tempted to stay on, but as they said they 
would not lower the rent from 35/., which we had 
given as yearly tenants, neither would do aity repairs, 
which it began to need, we determined to look out 
for a smaller house, but we had time before us and 
hoped to find some place where we could be happy 
and comfortable. 

An incident occurred about now that worried me 
more than such things should do. It was the loss of 
our excellent servant Milly, who came to us soon after 
the birth of Eliza. The season had been, as I have 
said, unusually wet and stormy, and she being a 
rheumatic person had suffered more than she had 
ever done before, so on that plea she said she wished 
to leave. 

The fact really was, that the Misses Heath, who 
kept a Dame's house at Eton, and who knew of Milly 
through my former nursemaid who lived at Dr. 
Heath's, had enticed her to go and live with them 
under the pretence that they had a recipe for the 
cure of rheumatism, and offered her a few other ad- 
vantages as to the position of her room &c. 


When the ladies came to inquire into her charac- 
ter, as agreed, I told them what Milly had told me, 
and pointed out that Eton was more damp than 
Windsor, and that their house was situated near a 
creek of nearly stagnant water ; and when they began 
to ask about her quaUties, I answered that as they 
had enticed her from our situation, they must be 
perfectly well acquainted with all the particulars 
that they wished me to detail to them. I added that 
their conduct was actionable, but that it would not 
be followed up, as Mr. Papendiek was not that sort of 
person ; that Milly was now ill, of which they were 
aware, and that as they proposed to cure her, I 
would send her the following day in a sedan. 

They were astonished, looked frightened and pale, 
either from fear or passion, and retired discomfited. 

Poor Milly; she was hurt and surprised, but I 
convinced her of the error both parties had com- 
mitted, and assured her of my friendship, my good 
opinion and respect ; told her that she would be wel- 
come at our house day or night, and that she might 
depend upon my good word and assistance should 
she ever require them. 

I settled with a charwoman to remain till I got a 
cook, in which I soon succeeded. She was too old, 
and six weeks parted us. Then I got one from the 
country, who did very well in all farmhouse business, 
but I could never civilise her to answer the door or 


wait upon us in the parlour decently. However, we 
bustled on, and managed for a time as well as we 

At this time I seemed to be losing my health. 
Whatever was the cause, the effect was miserable. I 
felt such a lassitude and want of energy that I was 
frequently obliged to lie down in the afternoon to 
recruit. Dr. Mingay was constant in his visits, but 
his medicines seemed to have no effect. I lingered 
on, sometimes better, sometimes worse, especially 
when anxiety intervened, till the weather became dry 
and genial. Then I improved, and in time became 
myself again. 

After the return of the Eoyal Family to London, 
Mr. Papendiek was anxious that I should spend a few 
days with him at his lodgings, but as I did not like 
leaving the children with strange servants, and heard, 
moreover, that we were to have an Abbey concert, I 
put it off for the present, so that one visit might do. 

Baron Dillon came over in the spring, as usual, 
and urged the Jervois's to go to the Abbey once 
more, but as they had determined to leave England 
with their family on the commencement of the Eton 
vacation, they declined it, and merely went to London 
for a few days for the Exhibitions, and to do a little 

When the time came, in order to join this sweet 
party I sent my little girls to Mrs. Eoach's, the boys 


I took to St. James's with my favourite Datchet Lane 
servant, and I intruded myself on Mr. Papendiek's 
second floor, at Kohler's, 5 Thatched House Court. 
There the baron constantly came to practise his 
pretty airs, and made me scribble them down for Mr. 
Papendiek to correct and make fair copies of them. 
Mrs. Kohler contrived to get her lodgers out of the 
first floor, and when we came home one night, with- 
out a word being said, we found our pianoforte 
placed in the drawing-room, the other three rooms 
being appropriated to meals, sleeping, and dressing, 
and we were to pay nothing in addition for one 
month. Truly this was kind. 

At the Exhibition the principal attraction was 
Lawrence's picture of the Devil calling to his Legions, 
his leading performance of the year. We thought it 
ill-judged of him to exhibit this the year after the 
one of the same subject by Ealph West, but he said 
he wished to show his knowledge of the human 
figure, having studied hard and attended punctually 
the lectures upon anatomy of Sheldon, the surgeon, 
appointed lecturer to the Eoyal Academy. 

Ealph West did not exhibit this year, or ever 

Sir Joshua Eeynolds's fine portrait of Philippe 
EgaUt^ was looked at by crowds. It was painted 
for the Prince of Wales, who sat in return for this 
vile fellow to Madame le Brun, who had lately come 


to England. Other artistes both in music and paint- 
ing were flocking over from Paris, where the direful 
Eevolution was gaining ground. 

Salomon's benefit we attended with our Windsor 
party, where he introduced Madame Krumpholtus, a 
German whose harp playing was in every respect 
perfect. She invented the pedals for different keys, 
which wonderfully improved the effect of the instru- 
ment. What rendered her performance more in- 
teresting was that she was a most elegant little 
woman, not handsome, but so beautifully formed, and 
her taste so exquisite that she was consulted by the 
nobility about their superior dresses for drawing- 
rooms, balls, routs, &c. Her harp was made a proper 
size for her, as she was too small to use a full-sized 
one with comfort and grace. 

She was first heard in a duet with Dussek, of his 
own composition, variations on the * Plough boy,' the 
popular air of the day, of which the words were 
political. The melody of the song was simple, and 
easily sung. Dussek played upon a pianoforte of 
Broadwood's, with the four extra notes in the treble. 
In the second act Madame Krumpholtus played an 
air of Haydn's with variations, the last two prestis- 
simo. She at once established herself by the great 
superiority of her talent, her amiable deportment, 
and her punctuality in her public appointments. 

This year my mother went with me to the Abbey, 


which we were told would not be full, nor the selec- 
tion good. We therefore did not hurry, and the 
consequence was that when we did arrive the middle 
aisle was full. We sat under the gallery, front row, 
but next to such an interesting East India family 
that we did not mind it, and long before the conclu- 
sion we got into the aisle. We were intensely grati- 
fied, and so far from its being an inferior selection 
the whole of the music was perfectly enchanting. 
We had Mara, Billington, Storace, and the inimitable 
David, tenor, who sang, *Thy rebuke hath broken 
my heart,' with a long recitative, both that and the 
air being so scientifically performed that there was 
scarcely a dry eye in the Abbey. Mrs. Kennedy, 
who had a contralto voice melodiously sweet, joined 
with David in delicious bits of duo, and there was 
nothing in the performance to be wished for. 

The birthday was magnificent. My boys went 
down to the Eoyal Family with me, and the King was 
pleased with the lively manner in which they took 
his kindly gracious play. 

My dress was now rather at a low ebb. My 
striped India muslin gown, a petticoat, and my round 
gown with jacket frill, were for best ; and I had the 
print from Weymouth, white ground and small 
bunches of flowers, made up for second best. My 
Dunstable bonnet was done up with blue ribbon, and 
I also had a new fashionable dark-green silk bonnet 


for gala occasions to match capes, sashes, and so 

Princess Augusta, having observed my extreme 
deUght at David's singing, gave me a ticket for the 
second performance, the end seat of the south gallery, 
where the Princess could see me, and which pleased 
me, as I could look straight along the line of the 
principal singers. Baron Dillon took me in his car- 
riage, and, being one of the tenor chorus singers, was 
near enough to me to talk at intervals. David that 
day began his first allotment with the recitative, 
*Lord, remember David,' &c., and that and every 
other thing he sang was so perfect and to the heart, 
that it was almost too affecting. 

On my thanking the Princess the next morning, 
she said it had added to her gratification to see mine, 
and she was happy to have given me the ticket. 

Having seen all my friends, and enjoyed my visit 
to London, I returned home with my boys, but it 
grieved me to leave poor Mrs. Htinnemann in 
trouble. She had just lost her beautiful little girl 
in the measles, at which the poor father was in- 

My girls came home and greeted us with pleasure, 
but I had to hear a sad tale of quarrelling from Mrs. 
Eoach, who hesitated whether to expel my sister and 
Miss Meyer, or to overlook the circumstance altoge- 
ther. The latter had never settled down comfortably. 


and since the departure of her brother for India 
had been very refractory, which in a school destroys 
the few comforts and indulgences which otherwise 
might be enjoyed. Dr. Mingay as a joke had been in 
the habit of calling Mrs. the Empress Catha- 
rine, and himself Prince Potemkin. The teachers 
being young, and these girls, Miss Meyer and my ill- 
graced sister (getting on to sixteen or seventeen), 
laid hold of this nonsensical joke and talked in a 
very foolish way, complaining that Mrs. Eoach was 
always amusing herself with company -and neglecting 
the schoolroom. When reproved, my sister certainly 
struck Mrs. Roach in her passion, which, of course, 
made a terrible commotion. We were naturally very 
much upset by it all, but, upon my sister making a 
most humble apology Mrs. Roach very kindly let the 
matter drop. She, however, made certain changes in 
her arrangements, and in her staff of teachers. 

As the time drew near for us to leave our house, it 
seemed to look prettier and better than ever. Miss 
Delavaux had recommended a method of refreshing 
and cleaning the paint that entirely surpassed scouring 
it. In those days all doors were black, the panels 
white, except sometimes, as an ornament, there was a 
raised panel painted blue or light-green. The skirt- 
ings also were black, and in places where the paint 
was worn, we made it look beautiful with one coat 
of fresh paint. The Venetian blinda I had new strung 


at home with silk ferret, and the bars painted to 
match — one coat. 

The house was now ready to quit, but as yet we 
had not found another one to suit us. We had 
cooled a little too soon in our search, on hearing 
from Dr. Mingay that there was a chance of our 
being able to have a house belonging to hia wife in 
St. Alban's Street, then occupied by Cole, the town 

This was such a charming Uttle place, and would 
have suited us so exactly, that it was not unnatural 
that we should pause to hear the result of so tempting 
a plan. But alas, the tenant would not be dislodged, 
and we had to give up all idea of that house. We 
wished, if possible, to find one nearer the Lodge than 
our present abode, so as to avoid Thames Street Hill 
and the Hundred Steps. 

My first visitors after my return home, to my 
surprise, were Miss Knissel, from Hanover, with her 
protector, Mr. Hassler. She was a tall woman, with 
a slim, pretty figure, and, as an actress generally is, 
fascinating and agreeable in manner. She was dressed 
in white satin, with the transparent hat of the day, 
and introduced herself by saying that she had a letter 
to Mr. Papendiek to request that he would present 
her to the Duke of Cumberland. 

It was about six o'clock in the afternoon, and 
Frederick Griesbach came running down to point out 



to Hassler how wrongly he had acted in bringing such 
a person into a gentleman's house. He then recon- 
ducted them to the inn. 

She was the mother of the crippled and diseased 
young man who hved at Kew under the name of Mr. 
Cumberiand. The child was brought up in the 
Duke's apartments in St. James's, and educated at 
Westminster as a day scholar, whither he went and 
returned in the Duke's carriage. 

It was said that he fell from the phaeton, which 
caused his diseased back. The Duchess in after times 
was kind to him, but he died young, after having led 
a solitary hfe, the Duke not allowing anyone to show 
him attention. 

The Duke found a home for Miss Knissel, but it 
was never known where. Before she left Windsor, 
she begged to see me to thank me for my very kind 
reception. I could not refuse, and she came once 
again. She told me that a public performer losing 
her character at Hanover was immediately dismissed, 
but that she had hoped that as her connection had 
been with a Royal Duke her case would have been 
differently considered. Hassler said he was on his 
way to St. Petersburg to study under the Abbe Foghler ; 
but I never more heard of either of them. 

Miss Frederica Mackenthum came over in the 
same vessel, in the hope of obtaining a post with the 
Princesses, for as the Queen was about to dismiss 


Miss Burney, there would shortly be a vacancy in 
the household. It was the Princess Eoyal's wish 
that Miss Mackenthum should be raised to the vacant 
situation with the Queen, and that the younger sister 
(Frederica) should come to her; but the Queen 
would not hear of it, and sent over Mrs. Deluc to 
find some German lady who would suit all parties, as 
Miss Hagedom hafl previously done. 

What gave rise to the change was Miss Bumey 
telling the Queen that she had written a third novel ; 
that it would gratify her much if her Majesty would 
permit her to read it ; that if approved her Majesty 
would title it, and grant Miss Bumey the honour 
and indulgence of dedicating it to her. 

The Queen immediately replied that she could do 
neither, as it would not be consistent with her feel- 
ings to encourage or even sanction novel writing, 
particularly under her own roof She added that 
she perceived a want of cheerfulness and pleasurable 
attendance in Miss Burney, and always felt certain 
that whenever she rang her bell, the pen was laid 
down with regret ; and that she thought Miss Burney 
would feel happier to resume her writing for the 
public than to continue in a situation that did not 
appear to suit her, and of which the duties were irk- 
some and uncongenial to her. 

Poor thing, she bowed out; and not being in 
good circumstances as to pecuniary matters in her 

S 2 


home with her father, Dr. Burney, it was a severe 

The midsummer holidays now began, but Mrs. 
£oach having something to do to her house, remained 
there nearly a fortnight after her inmates were gone, 
and during this time I had much pleasant intercourse 
with her. I went over to her house once or twice to 
assist her with some needlework, 'as she wished to 
improve her wardrobe. 

One particular day which I spent with her to help 
her make a cloak like my black gauze cloak I re- 
member for the intensity of the heat. We sat in the 
dressing-room, and so hot was it that we actually 
loosened our dresses. 

Before eight o'clock Mr. Papendiek came running 
down to fetch me home, saying that it was lightning 
vividly, and a great storm was coming on. The 
oppression of the atmosphere was something quite 
unnatural, and so intense was the heat that as we 
passed along the streets we saw people, who had not 
a garden or an outlet, sitting before their doors on 
the pavement. The storm did not come on with 
violence till towards morning, when the rain fell in 

The town on the previous night was in a great 
state of excitement at hearing of the beautiful Mrs. 
Pick being struck with a locked jaw, and in convul- 
sions, within a few weeks of her expected confinement. 


She was the newly married wife of our clarinet and 
very fine trombone player, of the King's band, who 
lodged at Brooker's, in the Dean's Yard. The medi- 
cal men soon assembled, but they could do but little 
for * her, and looked on almost hopelessly. Dr. 
Mingay discovered an aperture in the mouth through 
the loss of a tooth, and through that, by the in- 
genious use of a quill, they got liquid down her 
throat, which they hoped might at any rate alleviate 
her sufferings. Poor thing, she lived in this state for 
several days, but at last succumbed. It was sup- 
posed that she was too weak to bear the intense heat 
of that ever-memorable day. 

We continued all this time to search for a resi- 
dence, and looked at the three newly built houses 
next to Mrs. Hopkins's, with whom lived the beautiful 
Miss Guards. These houses, except in price, were 
just the thing for us, but 40Z. a year, with the ad- 
dition of the heavy taxes of that time, was a sum 
that we could not meet. 

Isaac Clarke, the appointed gentleman of the wine- 
cellar upon the resignation of old Stillingfleet, had 
taken the centre house, having obtained the King's 
permission, upon the plea of delicate health, to drop 
the town duty ; and now called to offer the house in 
Dean's Yard that they were on the point of quitting. 
I felt rather indignant upon the subject. Neverthe- 
less I fixed a time to call upon Mrs. Clarke to look at 


it. 20/. a year was the rent, and at the end of a term 
of three years, Mr. Round, the lawyer, intended to re- 
pair it thoroughly, both usefully and ornamentally, 
at an increased rent of only 5/. We paused for a 
few days — the entrance was so objectionable. 

Mr. Papendiek called upon the Dean, who, being 
but seldom at Windsor, had let the yard and stables 
to Dr. Douglas, the Bishop of Salisbury. He, with his 
usual kind-heartedness, told Mr. Papendiek that he 
would speak to his coachman, who had lived with 
. him for years, to render as much accommodation as 
possible. A path from the street through the gate- 
way could not be railed off, as two horses abreast 
could scarcely enter as it was, but gates had been 
made already to roll the carriage into the coach-house 
direct from the street. 

While we were yet reflecting, young Seeker, the 
lawyer, called, introduced by Dr. Mingay. He politely 
said that he had been told that we were certainly 
going to leave the house in which we were then re- 
siding, and that he had, in consequence, offered to 
purchase it from the Cutlers, as it exactly suited his 
views. This they had gladly assented to, but it dis- 
tressed me, as it took away all chance of our ever 
regaining a residence in a house we so greatly liked. 
Seeker took the fixtures upon the usual terms, and 
bought the drawing-room furniture for the same price 
that we had given for it two years before. 


We now decided upon and engaged the house in 
Dean's Yard, and as it suited all parties, we agreed 
to move into it on September 1, before Mr. Papen- 
diek left for Weymouth. The rooms were small, 
but there was an excellent-sized hall, and the stair- 
case was more than proportionably good. There 
were two parlours, one of which had a large glass 
door, by which one could step out into the garden. 
This was really a pretty one, and pleasant enough on 
fine days. On the left of the house door were the 
kitchen and other offices, all so completely and 
conveniently arranged, that, although in miniature, 
we never felt the want of space. From the kitchen, 
up a few stairs, was a bedroom for the servant.^ 

The young person who had lived with the Clarkes 
for seven years said it was perfectly comfortable, 
cool in summer and warm in winter. She was a tall, 
well-grown woman, but when my servant Sally Pear- 
son, a little under-sized mortal, was shown her apart- 
ment, she objected on the plea of its being close. 
Besides this, we had four very fair-sized bedrooms, in 
which we settled down very comfortably. My two 
girls slept with the servant, as Charlotte, the eldest, 
was not eight years old till the following November, 
and too young to be left alone. Fred was in a Uttle 
room out of ours, and Qeorgy had a small bed at 
my side. He was just three years old, and now ran 
about and played with the others. He was pretty 


well in his health, but did not altogether overcome 
his peevishness. 

One servant was to do for us ; the two we had 
of course left us, and this Sally Pearson, who was well 
recommended by friends, we engaged. In the house 
next to us lived Widow Brooker, whose lodgings, 
after the death of Mrs. Pick and the consequent 
departure of Mr. Pick, were let to Minney, of the 
Silver Scullery. His wife, on the birth of their son, 
the only child, obtained the favour of the Duke of 
Cambridge's sponsorship, and they requested me to 
be the godmother, which I did not refuse. The son 
of Widow Brooker was a helper in the kitchen wing 
of the Upper Lodge, and her daughter one of the 

The third and largest house in this yard belonged 
to old Delavaux, who let it to Charles Horn, who, 
besides two or more sons and one daughter, had his 
wife's German mother and sister living with them. 

Different as the change was, it did not affect us as 
much as I thought it would have done. We seemed 
more at our ease, our garden less public, and close to 
every desirable walk, without having to encounter 
Thames Street Hill or the Hundred Steps. Mr. Papen- 
diek, too, benefited by the change, as he was at home 
in - a moment from the Lodge, of which we had an 
unobstructed view from the house and garden. 

Before we left Thames Street, my mother came 


down once more to see us, leaving my sister to keep 
house with my brother in London. Our friends 
called to regret with us the loss of our nice house, 
which would put an end to concerts and many little 
happy meetings. Among others Delavaux called, 
and said he was sorry the Horns had a lease of his 
house, which was, he said, far superior to the one we 
had taken. 

I spoke to him upon the quantity of coals re- 
quired to be put in for the winter, when he told me 
that until we had paid our bill, he should only send 
in sufficient for our monthly consumption, that he 
might have the profit instead of us. 

We got into our new abode before the Eoyal 
Family left Windsor for Weymouth on the 1st of 
September. The Queen's observation about our 
change was that she was sorry we had no entrance 
from the street ; but that as far as the size of the 
house went, it was quite as respectable to have one 
suited to our income, as to have a larger and to be 
obliged to call in assistants to aid in the payment of 
the rent. 

Charles Papendiek was to return to Germany 
with the Michaelmas quarterly Hanoverian messenger, 
and meanwhile, after remaining a short time with me, 
he was to go to Weymouth, and lastly to Kohler's, in 
Thatched House Court. So anxious was Mr. Papen- 
diek to keep him in this country, that he asked the 


King, unknown to me, to put him into his band at 
Windsor, or the St. James's Palace band. Both were 

Poor fellow, he determined never to go back to 
his parents, and settled himself with a bleacher and 
printer of linens, at Hamburgh. The 15/. that Mr. 
Papendiek allowed to his family, he entreated might 
be shared with Charles. Christian was gone to the 
East Indies, and George Papendiek was again at 



Mrs. Deluc, Miss Jacobi, and Miss Winkelmann — ^Madame Schwellenberg 
makes difficulties — Palsa and Thurschmid — Lunch at the Herschels' 
and music — Quartett party — Description of Miss Winkelmann — 
House-warming — Nomination of the parish organist — Marriage of the 
Duke of York — ^The Duchesses household — Description of the Duchess 
— Invitation to Windsor for Christmas — Miss Tilderley — Consider- 
able public anxiety — Incendiary fires — Wyatt — Riots in Birmingham 
— Deaths of notable personages — Soliloquy — Education — Female and 
household duties — Close of the year 1791 — D^but of Princess Mary — 
Drawing-room dresses — Court days — Interesting ballets — Serious 
accident — ^The Haymarket Theatre — Great cold — Arrival of Haydn — 
Eliza*s illness — Early history of Haydn — Tom Paine — Pernicious 
effects of his works — The Bench of Bishops — The militia embodied — 
Dress — Games at cards — Salomon*s concerts — Salomon's kindness — 
Arrangement of the performers — Reflections on the English public — 
Haydn*8 first public appearance — Great enthusiasm — Haydn's talent 
—Seditious meetings at Windsor— * Duty '—Death of Mrs. 

The six weeks' excursion to Weymouth was success- 
ful, and the party returned safely to Windsor. 

Mrs. Deluc arrived soon after with Miss Jacobi, 
and her niece Miss Winkelmann as her companion, in 
the suite of the German messenger. On being pre- 
sented to the Queen she appeared to make a favour- 
able impression, but on better, or rather on longer, 
acquaintance, she was no favourite. She was of a 
leading German family, both as to position and talent, 


and cousin of Baron Jacobi, Prussian minister or 
ambassador in this country. She was a tall, well- 
looking woman, ladylike in appearance, manner, and 
disposition ; but being unaccustomed to the obse- 
quious politeness of a court (possessing only that of 
the heart) the Queen thought her not refined, and 
she was also annoyed at Miss Jacobi's difficulty of 

Madame Schwellenberg would not permit the niece 
to dine at her table, which caused some confusion, 
but on the Queen's desiring that it might be so, 
Madame consented reluctantly, on the ground that 
Miss Winkelmann was only acting for a time as lady's 
maid, till one could be engaged. At the end of the 
month, when the servants' perquisites of tea, sugar, 
wine, and candles were given out, Mr. Garton waited 
upon Miss Jacobi for her orders, when she desired that 
Miss Winkelmann should receive the same allowance 
as the others. Now old Schwelly became highly en- 
raged that her dignity should be thus degraded. She 
would not suffer Miss Winkelmann any more to enter 
her rooms ; for by taking the allowances in common 
with the other ladies' maids, she had proved that she 
attended her aunt (Miss Jacobi) in that capacity. 
Her meals, dinner and supper, were sent from the 
great table — i.e. Schwellenberg's — ^breakfast and tea 
were served in their own rooms, of which they had 
three elegant ones. 


Schwellenberg would not allow that Miss Jacobi 
should be the Queen's private treasurer, but on the 
departure of poor Miss Burney, this appointment, from 
which nothing was to be gained but the trouble of it, 
was put into the hands of Miss Planta, on the plea 
that Miss Jacobi was a stranger, although she wrote 
and spoke English well. These several people after 
some Uttle time became settled, but neither agreeably 
so or confidentially. 

During the spring and summer we had often met 
the Herschels, either at our house or theirs. Young 
Pitt was often at Slough, too, for change of air, as he 
was getting into delicate health, his mother being 
made to see it with great difficulty, and in the sum- 
mer he spent six weeks there, after which he returned 
to Paternoster Row greatly recruited. 

During this year, too, we were agreeably surprised 
by a visit from the famed French horn players, Palsa 
and Thurschmid. They arrived too late in the season 
to appear at the Musical Fund concert, but were in 
time for the oratorios, where they were heard and 
approved by thundering applause. They were im- 
mediately seized upon and engaged for the Bath 
season, which in those days began at Easter, continu- 
ing for the six or eight following weeks. On their 
way they stopped at Windsor and called upon us iu 
the hope of getting a command to perform to their 
Majesties ; but on having it explained to them that 



the King and Queen were only at Windsor for a few 
days in private, the band remaining in town, they 
were satisfied, and gave us their company instead, 
playing to Mr. Papendiek the ' Themas ' and portions 
of the different movements they meant to perform, 
with accompaniment. Their instruments were of 
silver, and the mouthpieces silver gilt. The softness 
and mellowness of the tone is not to be described. 
The slow movements drew tears that often could not 
be suppressed, the notes striking upon the ear like the 
plaintive sounds of the dove. 

The next morning we proceeded with them to 
Slough to introduce them to Dr. Herschel, whose 
brother Alexander was first violoncello in the estab- 
lished band at Bath, and who we thought might 
be of use to these gentlemen. The Doctor re- 
ceived them with his usual welcome, and in the 
kindest manner showed them all that could in any 
way interest them. The hospitality of Mrs. Herschel 
followed, and during luncheon not a word about 
music was spoken, except the request of a letter of 
introduction to Mr. Herschel at Bath. The repast 
was hurried and they took leave, saying they would 
walk to the carriage. A moment after, the most en- 
chanting sounds were heard, and of course we all ran 
out. This was intended as a surprise, and a delight- 
ful one it was, and then, repeating their thanks to 
Dr. Herschel for his kindness, they said they would 


play as long as he could spare time to listen to them. 
These three great men parted with mutual expressions 
of gratification at the pleasure they had experienced 
in each other's society, and only regretted that the 
meeting had been of such a short duration. 

Palsa and Thurschmid, after having fully estab- 
lished their fame at Bath, travelled during the summer 
over the principal counties of England ; and in London 
the following season they were generally engaged, 
Salomon having secured them for his subscription 
concerts, at which Haydn was to be conductor and 

As soon as we could get the Griesbachs, we sum- 
moned the Lodge party to a quartett, and Mr. Papen- 
diek asked Miss Jacobi, with Miss Planta and Miss 
Bumey, who had often honoured us with their com- 
pany. Miss Jacobi pleaded being a stranger as an 
excuse, and proposed Miss Winkelmann accompany- 
ing Miss Planta, which of course we were pleased to 
accede to. 

The evening went ofi* very well, and, with the two 
downstairs rooms, we managed very comfortably. 
Miss Winkelmann had a tall, slim figure. Youth and 
a florid complexion set her ofi*, for she was not pretty, 
and with her dejected air, at which no one could be 
surprised, from her unkind reception and from the 
unpleasant situation in which she was placed, she did 
not excite much interest. 


Our next party was more a house-warming. The 
Mingays, Horns, Forrests, and Delavaux to tea at six 
and supper at nine, which was partly hot. The 
singing men dropped in, and the catch and glee sing- 
ing was perfectly delightful. 

Mr. Horn was a kind-hearted, friendly man, with 
a fair talent for music, and he was a good deal with 
us ; but his wife could only be admitted by invitation, 
for her mind and manner remained in their original 
capacity, those of a servant. 

Horn was now to teach the Princesses the piano- 
forte, recommended by Dr. Parsons. The Queen had 
determined to try young Rodgers, but, poor fellow, 
although he possessed first-rate abiUties for teaching, 
his dehcate health and unfavourable appearance 
prevented the Queen from engaging him ; but she 
promised that he should not be forgotten in a situ- 
ation that might suit him. 

Upon the new window in St. George's Chapel 
being put up, of which circumstance I cannot recol- 
lect the exact date, and the old Chapel being re- 
newed and beautified, the King ordered a new organ 
and gave the old one to the parish church, reserving 
to himself the nomination of the organist. 

This met with great opposition, for they said it 
would involve the parish in expenses they did not 
wish to incur. After several meetings, Simpson the 
churchwarden, who kept a biUiard-table in our lane, 


requested Mr. Papendiek, privately, to urge Dr. 
Majendie, who then held the living of Windsor in 
addition to his Prebend's stall, to be firm and to 
settle the acceptance of the King's gracious donation. 
Mr. Papendiek entreated the Queen to bring Rodgers 
to the King's notice, which was done, and he was 
proposed as organist. After some opposition, he 
was finally appointed to the post at a salary of 25/. a 
year, and oL for teaching the boys. The King paid 
the expenses of the organ loft, of fixing and repairing 
the organ, and the keeping it in tune for one 

The Duke of York having married in October 
of this year, 1791, Princess Frederica Carlotta Ulrica, 
the Princess Royal of Prussia, and her Eoyal High- 
ness's sister having on the same day married the 
Hereditary Prince of Orange, now King of Holland, it 
became necessary to consider how these ladies could 
accomplish the journeys to their respective homes in 
safety, for as the horrors of the Revolution in France 
were increasing rather than diminishing, and all 
order was subverted, it was at best a journey of some 

However, it was safely accomplished, and about 
the middle of November the Duke and Duchess of 
York, with their suite, arrived in the evening. The 
Prince of Wales received them, letters from the Royal 
Family greeted them, and the following day their 



Majesties and the three elder Princesses went to 
London to welcome the bridal pair. 

Lord Melbourne's house in Whitehall had been 
taken for them. The back looking on the Parade 
was thought open and pretty ; it was near Carlton 
House, and very convenient for the Duke, who then 
had one of the regiments of Guards. 

Lady Anne Fitzroy, and a second lady whose 
name I forget, were appointed as the Duchess's atten- 
dants, and went over to accompany her on her 
travels, and she also had two dressers. Miss Blumen- 
thal and another, with her, besides Mr. Silvester, who 
had been for some years her page and hairdresser. 
Among other appointments was that of Sir Herbert 
Taylor, who though at that time of greatly inferior 
rank in the army, yet was to be general attendant ou 
the Duchess, her treasurer, and ako treasurer to the 
household. Her Royal Highness's companion and 
friend, Mile, von Verac, also accompanied her. The 
Duke's page, in constant attendance on his Royal 
Highness's person, was Mr. Pascal, only brother of 
Mrs. Theilcke. 

The ceremony of re-marriage according to the 
rites of our Church was performed by the Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury very soon after their arrival 
in this country, all the Royal Family being present 
on the occasion. 

The young Duchess was particularly high-bred 


looking and amiable, and had a most winning manner, 
so it is not surprising that she quickly became very 
popular in England. She was tenderly attached 
to her husband, which makes his cruel treatment of 
her all the more despicable, and she bore her troubles, 
which began almost immediately after her marriage, 
as long as it was possible to do so. In about six 
years, however, they separated, after which she lived 
in retirement. 

A drawing-room was held soon after the marriage 
ceremony, registration, &c., in order to introduce the 
Duchess, which was very fully attended, and then a 
play was commanded at both houses, to which the 
Duke and Duchess went in state, the box opposite to 
that of their Majesties being suitably fitted up for 
the occasion. 

An invitation was given by the King and Queen 
for Christmas, with the desire that they should stay 
at Windsor as long as they found it agreeable. The 
Duke and Duchess accepted the ofier, and arrived 
with Mile, von Verac, apartments at the Castle 
having been prepared for their reception. Herbert 
Taylor ranked with the equerries, and took his meals 
with them; Pascal and Silvester joined the pages, 
and the two dressers were boarded at the Castle, 
by the good nature of Mr. Garton. 

These ladies passed their leisure time with the 
Mackenthums, who brought them to get through an 

T 2 


evening with us. This turning out rather agreeable 
to them, was repeated, and I visited them to show 
them about a little. 

The Duchess complaining of indisposition, the 
visit to Windsor was not wholly completed. 

At Christmas our children assembled for their 
holidays, and brought Miss Tilderley with them from 
Mrs. Eoach's to spend some time with us while her 
parents were establishing themselves at Hampton 
Court. The father had been removed from the 
situation of Clerk of the Works at Windsor on 
some misunderstanding with the King, and Mr. 
Leach, who was not at all equal to the appointment, 
was placed in Mr. Tilderley's house with every 
advantage connected with that eligible office. 

This girl, sixteen years old, was so intractable 
and so dangerous a young person, frightening the 
children after I had left them in their beds, that I 
could not keep her, and Mrs. Mingay, who had the 
second sister, said she would also take the elder girl, 
but she soon despatched them both home. The 
father not long after became an invalid, and at his 
death the widow retired with her large family, on a 
small pension, to her friends. 

However, while this schoolfellow was still with 
us we had our usual Christmas party for the young 
ones, which was very successful, and gave them 
infinite delight. 


We did not go to town for the birthday, so that 
the girls went often to the Lodge, and we ended the 
year in cheerful comfort, visiting our friends and 
making the most of present happiness, knowing that 
Mr. Papendiek would have to be more in town than 
usual during the coming winter. 

The year now drawing to a close had been one 
of considerable public anxiety on political grounds, 
the spirit of RadicaUsm showing a great tendency to 
spread in many districts, fostered no doubt by the 
seditious pubhcations which were of late unhappily 
gaining ground. The sad results of this Democratic 
movement in France made people in authority dread 
the smallest inclination towards the same spirit at 
home, and riots and other signs of the subversion of 
the law were looked upon with great alarm. 

Fires had been frequent by incendiaries. The 
Albion Mills, close to Blackfriars Bridge, of most 
curious and useful construction, for corn, built by 
James Wyatt, were burnt to the ground. 

Wyatt was called by Walpole the fashionable 
architect of the day. Certainly he had made a name 
for himself by building the Palace at Kew, and after- 
wards the Pantheon, then used as a dancing and 
concert hall. He was taken to Rome when quite a 
youth by Lord Bagot, there to study ancient archi- 
tectural art, and returned to England a few years 
after the accession of George III. 


Many of his works still stand to bear witness to 
his abilities. 

But to return. Dr. Priestley's house, near Bir- 
mingham, with his Ubrary and valuable manuscripts, 
was burnt, and all his effects utterly destroyed ; 
Eylands also, belonging to Lady Carhampton, mother 
of the Duchess of Cumberland ; and many others. 

The riots in Birmingham and the neighbourhood 
in the month of July were very serious, and lasted for 
several days. They originated in the circulation of 
an inflammatory paper which contained articles 
relating to the Bastille, and also from a supposed 
idea of the monopoly of corn. Several houses were 
destroyed, and the riots were only at last quelled by 
the interposition of the military, horse and foot. 

Richmond House, in Privy Gardens, Whitehall, 
was also destroyed by fire ; but this was accidentally, 
on the return of the family from a ball. Being 
morning, people were about, and fortunately the 
whole of the valuables were saved. No lives were 
lost, but the house was a complete ruin. 

Upon the death of Duke Henry of Cumberland, 
his library and all his musical instruments were sold 
by public auction. Mr. Braddyl was a liberal pur- 
chaser, and he also upon the Duke's death became 
the protector of Mrs. Billington. 

The Lady Howard of Effingham, friend of the 
Queen, and one of her ladies of the bedchamber, died 


during this year. Lady Sydney was appointed in 
her place, and her daughter, the Honourable Miss 
Townshend, was made housekeeper at Windsor Castle 
upon the death of Lady Mary Churchill. 

Our friend. Dr. Charles Bostock, was created a 
baronet, and took the name of Eich, having married 
an heiress of that name. 

These events that I have just enumerated are all 
that I can recollect as having occurred during the 
year 1791, besides those that I have mentioned in the 
course of my narrative. I now pause to take a short 
review of our life at that time, and recollecting the 
change in our circumstances between the close of 
that year and the preceding one, I soUloquise thus. 

We were thrown back upon our own resources ; 
our income was by no means increased. Our children 
were growing up, and their education becoming a 
matter of importance ; and then followed the con- 
sideration of how this was best to be accomplished. 

My own education had been excellent and Uberal, 
but having married at the early age of seventeen and 
a half, what had been sown and nurtured with care 
had not had time to fructify, and since my marriage, 
opportunity had failed me to cultivate knowledge in 
a sufficient degree to impart it to children of so much 
talent as our dear offspring, evinced. 

Schools at that time, for girls as well as boys, 


were resorted to for every rank, from the nobility 
to the lowest classes. Leading retailers, as well as 
bankers, merchants, and gentlemen of means, often, 
to show their consequence and riches, sent their 
daughters as parlour borders, for which they paid 
double the usual school fees, the advantages gained 
being that they took their meals with the governesses, 
joining in any company that there might be out of 
the schoolroom, and partaking of any occasional 
indulgences that might occur. 

Others, again, of smaller means, sent their daugh- 
ters as half boarders, for which they paid half fees, 
and by giving some assistance in the school, these 
girls received the advantage of lessons from the visit- 
ing masters free of charge. 

My desire was that my girls should remain as day 
scholars with Mrs. Roach, where they would continue 
under my guidance, and I could watch their daily 
progress, knowing at the same time Jthat they were 
with a woman of strict principle if not altogether of 
the ornamental manner of good breeding. In addition 
to this very great advantage, we were surrounded 
by superior masters in all branches of education, of 
whose talents and instruction we could avail ourselves 
without difficulty. 

Frederick for the present was going on remark- 
ably well at Mr. Ward's, and we hoped to be able to 
keep him there. 


Female and household duties that had been early 
inculcated at Streatham, and not neglected at home, I 
hope I followed up, not only from the bent of my 
mind, but from the desire of acting rightly; and 
these duties I looked forward to imparting to my 
girls as soon as they were old enough to profit by my 
instructions. All these desires, I am thankful to say, 
I have been enabled to fulfil, and I am sure that my 
daughters will give me credit for having done my 
best to bring them up as useful and right-minded 
members of society. 

Up to the time of which I am writing, Uttle 
change had taken place in the luxuries of living, or 
in the mode of looking forward to the means of meet- 
ing the exigencies of a family. Society was not kept 
up with so much ceremony as to engross an undue 
proportion of time, and it was still the custom for 
the mistress of a household to assist in all the superior 
part of the manage, so servants were only required for 
the actual labour of the house. 

In starting young people in the world it was 
necessary then, as now, that they should have a good 
education or some fortune. As we could not amass 
the latter, we determined that our children should 
have as good an education as we could possibly 
manage to give them, and in this matter I assisted as 
far as in me lay. I was constantly looking after the 
progress they made, urging them to perseverance. 


and exhorting them against any inclination to indo- 
lence, idleness, or self-will. This earnestness in me 
may be termed severity, and perhaps it savours of it, 
but to do my duty was ever my favourite theme. I 
loved my children more than life — I wished them to 
excel, and if I made them sometimes unhappy or 
uncomfortable they know now, indeed they knew 
then, that all was done in affectionate zeal for their 
welfare, and that I sincerely regret any undue 
impetuosity. We have rubbed on through life as 
friends and with great affection, which as I draw 
near the end of my life is a source of the greatest 
comfort and happiness to me. 

I have been led to make this little retrospection 
of my feelings at that time from the coincidence that 
as I write of the close of one eventful year of my life 
I have just arrived at the close of another one. 

I am now nearly seventy-four years of age, and 
though I am thankful to say that I still enjoy the 
blessings of health and vigour, I feel that each year 
may be my last. I am at the present time at ray 
eldest daughter's house, now Mrs. Planta, wife of the 
Eight Honourable Joseph Planta, Conservative mem- 
ber for Hastings. All my surviving children are 
kind and loving to me, and when I leave them I 
trust that I may rejoin those that have gone before. 

I hope I may be able to finish the story of my 
life, as I feel sure that my daughters and grand- 


children will like to read the farther record of those 
stirring events with which I was so intimately 
connected ; but for a short time I must now pause. 

Charlotte Papendiek. 

Faiblight : December 81, 1888. 

I resume the writing of my reminiscences in 
January 1839, thanking God that I have been spared 
to see the beginning of another year. 

The year 1792 opened quietly upon us. There 
was no celebration of the day either at the Castle 
or at the Lodge ; and the Royal Family, yet unac- 
quainted with the disposition and habits of the 
Duchess of York, formed no plans of amusement 
until they should find out during her visit to them 
at Windsor what would be the most agreeable ; and 
that visit being shortened, little was done beyond 
inviting the neighbouring families. 

To prepare for the birthday, on which occasion 
the Princess Mary was to be introduced, their 
Majesties and the six Princesses left Windsor for 
the season earlier than usual. The Princess was 
anxious to take a few lessons from Denoyer in a 
court hoop and train, in order that all might be 
perfect in appearance, for the beauty of Princess 
Mary was exquisite, both in figure and grace, with 
a very handsome face and sweet expression of 


The dress was always white for the first public 
entrie at the drawing-room ; and as the one on this 
birthday was to be attended by all parties out of 
compUment to the bride, Prussia being then our 
strong ally, the dresses were splendid and the Court 

The Duchess of York wore a white dress, ele- 
gantly embroidered, with her father's present of 
jewels, and that also of her father-in-law, our King. 
She looked dignified and royal, although by no 
means handsome, and the exaggerated style in 
which her head was dressed did not improve her 
appearance. The ordinary mode of dressing the hair 
at that date, with high toupie^ large chignon^ and 
pinned curls, was unbecoming to most people, and 
for a person of such diminutive stature as was her 
Eoyal Highness it was especially so. She was well 
proportioned, but of too small a size, with china blue 
eyes, a quantity of light hair, powdered, and she was 
slightly marked with small-pox. Her conversation 
was animated and clever, her manner perfectly 
polite, and her actions all lady-like. She was indeed 
a Princess, well-bred. 

The Prince of Wales having announced his in- 
tention not to marry, the Yorkites were considered 
presumptive heirs to the throne, or rather, I should 
say, his Royal Highness, and the Princess wife and 


Two drawing-rooms were appointed to be held 
at St. James's in the usual state by the Duchess of 
York, to give the nobility and others the opportunity 
of presentation to her. The four elder Princesses 
attended, with their ladies, in full costume, and 
with Court etiquette. They were presented, and a 
few minutes after having paid this compliment, they 
retired and returned home. 

These two Court days took place before Easter, 
and were exclusive of the Queen's pubUc days. The 
Duchess did not dance at the state ball, but attended 
and took a lively interest in the forms and ceremonies 
of the Court, especially on the birthdays, January 18 
and June 4. 

I was wrong in stating that a play had been com- 
manded at Drury Lane before Christmas, for the 
house was being rebuilt, and the Drury Lane 
company had obtained a licence to perform at the 
Haymarket Theatre four nights in the week; the 
other two, Tuesdays and Saturdays, having been 
bespoken by the proprietors of the King's Theatre 
for the opera, on the destruction by fire of the in- 
terior of the Pantheon, where the performance had 
taken place the two preceding seasons. The Hay- 
market was tastily fitted up with every convenience, 
for the subscribers in particular and the public in 

It was at this theatre that I saw the two very 


interesting ballets of * Orpheus and Eurydice' and 
* Telemachus in the Island of Calypso.' In the former 
the character of Orpheus was taken by Vestris, the 
father of the one who afterwards married Miss Bar- 
tolozzi. He played a beautiful polacca on the lyre 
when descending to the infernal regions to awaken 
his Eurydice and charm all the unhappy spirits to 
let her depart with him. 

Of Telemachus, D'Egville had first become the 
ballet m9.$ter, and himself performed the Mentor, 
Vestris taking the part of Telemachus. On the 
night that I was present an accident occurred in the 
concluding scene, when the Mentor throws his pupil- 
into the sea as the only means to get him away from 
the enchanting island, and then jumps in after him. 
The scene-shifters had by mistake removed the safe- 
guards, and poor D'Egville came upon the edge of a 
board that they moved up and down to represent 
waves, and his groans were pitiable. He was a large 
man, and had fallen heavily. Very soon, to a house 
crowded with company and silent with anxiety, the 
manager came forward and assured the assembled 
multitude that no dangerous symptoms had appeared. 
Two ribs were broken, which would easily be set, 
and the patient was perfectly sensible and even 
cheerful upon the cause of the accident. 

D'Egville did soon recover, but in resuming the 
character of the Mentor he changed the last and 


concluding scene, in future taking Telemachus in his 
arms, and just at the moment when he appeared as 
if on the point of throwing him into the sea, the 
curtain dropped. 

This theatre, the Hay market, was just of a size 
to hear and see Mrs. Siddons to perfection, and I did 
have the pleasure of seeing her there in many of her 
best characters. 

To give a sanction to the house, a play was com- 
manded, when their Majesties, the six Princesses, and 
their Eoyal Highnesses of York attended in state. 
The theatre was small and the crowd great, so that 
the Bow Street runners, and the Guard, horse and 
foot, usually attending, could not keep order. Dread- 
ful confusion ensued, and one gentleman, of the name 
of Smith, was killed from falUng down and being 
trampled upon. 

To bring the Opera House into repute, a new room 
had been added for concerts, of much larger dimen- 
sions than the Hanover Square Rooms, but much the 
same as WilUs's, which were usually engaged for 

This season, however, passed without its being 
completed, and all public entertainments proceeded 
as before, the Ancient Concert being held at the 
rooms in Tottenham Court Road. 

To revert to our own humble concerns : the winter 
having set in severely, with frost and snow upon the 


ground, we found our house very cold, much more 
so than the one that we had quitted, which I could 
not account for, as the new one was so much the 
smaller of the two ; but Dr. Mingay soon pointed out 
the cause. We were fully exposed to the east, with 
no shelter on that side of the house, and the sun, 
on account of the intervening stable, did not shine 
fully into the only bedroom which looked to the 

Up to this time we had not had the misfortune of 
illness that directed our attention either to the aspect 
of a house or the temperature of a room, so these 
particulars had been overlooked. We now wofully 
felt the want of fireplaces, and to make up for that 
loss of comfort, the three children took it in turns to 
sleep with me during Mr. Papendiek's absence, the 
others being undressed by my fire, and then running 
up to their little beds, wrapped up as warmly as we 
could. Dear little things ; I did all I could for their 
health, comfort, and amusement, walking abroad 
when possible, or letting them run up and down the 
garden with their hoops. 

The weather kept those of the Eoyal Family in 
town who usually passed a few days of the week at 
Windsor for the hunt, as already described. The loss 
of this enUvenment was a greater drawback to us 
than before, as we were now more shut out from the 
occasional opportunities of society which we had 


formerly enjoyed ; added to the long absence of Mr. 
Papendiek, who was in continual attendance upon 
the elder Princesses. 

Haydn, long expected, now at last arrived. 

Salomon naturally supposing that he would bring 
with him the symphonies that he intended to open 
his season with, convened his friends to meet on a 
.fixed morning, and Mr. Papendiek wrote to desire me 
to go up to hear the performance. 

I at once made arrangements to place the three 
elder children with Mrs. Roach (our present servant 
being too great a stranger for me to leave them in 
her charge), from whence Frederick would go daily 
to Mr. Ward's as usual, and I intended to take 
George to St. James's. All my plans were made, 
when, on the morning of the day on which I was to 
start, the maid came into my room to tell me that 
Eliza was far from well. I sent for Dr. Mingay, who 
came quickly, knowing of my little project for going 
to London, and hoping to put her right in time for 
me to leave by the two o'clock post coach. However, 
though it only turned out to be a bad bilious attack, 
I could not leave the poor little thing that day, so 
the coach took, instead of my person, a letter to 
Mr. Papendiek explaining matters. 

Letters in return came, regretting the cause of 
my non-appearance, but telling me that beyond the 
fact of not meeting my friends there was no cause 

VOL. n. U 


for disappointment, for there was, after all, no per- 
formance on the day specified. 

Haydn, immediately on his arrival, told Salomon 
that he should stay the summer in England, and that 
as he heard there were to be twelve concerts and 
two benefits during the season there would be ample 
time for him to compose his first symphonies after he 
had had the opportunity of studying the taste of the 
English. He was determined that his first pro- 
duction should both amuse and please the musical 
public and rivet him in their favour. 

Joseph Haydn was born in about the year 1733, 
at a small place on the borders of Hungary, of poor 
parents. He very early showed a taste for music, 
and a fertile talent for composition. He became a 
chorister at St. Stephen's, and after that was fortu- 
nate enough to meet with Prince Esterhazy, who 
took him up and gave him the opportunity of 
studying the art to the full bent of his mind. After 
coming to this country the University of Oxford 
conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Music. 

The alarming state of the times kept the King 
and Royal Family in town, for as the French Eevolu- 
tion gained ground, so revolutionary principles spread 
here. In almost every town and borough societies 
were formed, against Government authority, of dif- 
ferent ranks and classes of people. In London some 
of these meetings were called ' The Debating Socie- 


ties,' 'The Corresponding Societies,' * Nights of the 
People,' &c. 

Tom Paine's works were published and widely 
circulated, and were read with avidity. He was a 
most vigorous writer, but his opinions were very re- 
volutionary, and coming just at this time his works 
had a most pernicious effect. Early in this year, 
1792, the second part of his famous pamphlet, en- 
titled * The Rights of Man,' was pubhshed, and this 
was the cause of the proclamation against * Wicked 
and seditious pubHcations,' announced during the 
reign of George EH. A prosecution against Tom 
Paine, as the author of that work, was commenced 
by the Attorney-General, but he, making his escape, 
went over to France, where being termed Uhe 
friend of Uberty,' he was received with ovations 
and was made s, citizen of Paris. He, notwithstand- 
ing his Democratic views, voted against the sentence 
of death at the trial of Louis XVI. ; and had this 
powerful writer fallen into good hands when he first 
became an author instead of going to America as he 
did, where his opinions were formed, he might have 
done as good service in the cause of the Government 
as he endeavoured to do against it, in which he was 
happily frustrated by the prompt measures of the 

But to return from this digression. The Bench 
of Bishops were vigilant in their respective dioceses. 

u 2 


Dr. Moore, the Archbishop of Canterbury at that 
time, attended the councils daily at Buckingham 
House, and Porteus, of London, was indefatigable. 
The Lord Mayor called a weekly meeting of the city 
authorities. Common Council, &c., to be on the 
watch to prevent mischief if possible, and to be ready 
to meet it and suppress it on the first onset. The 
city trained bands were put into requisition, and the 
Artillery Corps, to which my son Charles in later 
years belonged, then with old Curtis at the head, 
was also in readiness at a moment's call. 

He, Curtis, afterwards created a baronet for his 
steady adherence to his King and country, presented 
his corps with their finest and largest cannon. 

All other cities and towns of any note followed 
the example of London, as is usual. The mihtia was 
embodied ; attendance was required for practice a 
given number of days in each month, and they were 
kept in constant military order so as to be also ready 
at call if required. 

Mr. Papendiek was drawn for the county of 
Berkshire, and in conformity to the regulations had 
to find two substitutes, as he could not attend him- 
self. Hatch, the lawyer at Windsor, settled the 
whole affair for us for 15^., a small sum for the 
business, but to us a sad drawback. 

In about a fortnight after the first disappoint- 
ment Haydn was ready, and I was summoned to hear 


the first performance. One child could be received 
at St. James's, so this time Eliza was named, in the 
hope that the change would bring her about. I put 
a person into our house on whom I could depend 
to assist the servant to take care of it, and particu- 
larly of the dear boys, but Charlotte I deposited 
with Mrs. Eoach, thinking it the most prudent 

My dress had now to be considered, which had 
come down to the two musHns and the printed cam- 
brics already described, the puce satin being at its 
last gasp. My blue satin cloak was quite new, and 
trimmed with a beautiful dark fur. I consulted Mrs. 
Barlow, who said it was most elegant to wear as a 
wrap when cold, and on warmer evenings just to 
hang on more loosely, and she thought that till 
Easter it would be a dress suitable for any pubUe 
amusement. A cap to suit I purchased of her 
for 35^., and Kead dressed my hair for 2^. 6d. as 
usual, charging the same price if he pinned on. 

I sojourned with my husband in his lodgings at 
Yates's, the perfumer, in Queen's Kow, Pimlico, 
where we could have our breakfast and find a fire 
on returning there at night, but no other accommo- 
dation. I could not, therefore, take either of my 
children there, and in all weathers had to go to 
St. James's to dine, to dress, and to wait till called for 
of an evening. 


It was nevertheless very happy, with our nice 
meals, our pool at quadrille or round game of com- 
merce or Pope Joan. 

Salomon gave my aunt and family a free admit- 
tance to the series of concerts; the same to the 
Janssen family, the son and daughters being good 
musicians. The eldest some few years after married 
Dr. Jackson, of Hanover Square, widower of our 
Mr. Ernst's sister. She was an excellent woman, 
and very kind to the two daughters of the doctor by 
his first marriage. 

The youngest Miss Janssen, one of dementi's 
favourite scholars, afterwards married Bartolozzi, the 
great engraver, and is mother of Madame Vestris, 
who certainly inherits the talents of both parents, 
and as far as acquired knowledge goes, particularly 
the ornamental branches, does honour to her mother's 

Salomon also offered the same liberal kindness 
to us, but as I did not live in London I did not think 
it fair to accept tickets for seats that I might not 
always be able to use, so declined this, but asked 
that I might be admitted alone or with a friend 
whenever I could avail myself of the permission on 
production of my visiting card. I may add here that 
our friendship continued unclouded till his death 
in 1815. 

The wished-for night at length arrived, and as I 


was anxious to be near the performers I went early. 
Mr. Papendiek followed from the Queen's House, and 
I got an excellent seat on a sofa at the right-hand 
side. The orchestra was arranged on a new plan. 
The pianoforte was in the centre, at each extreme 
end the double basses, then on each side two violon- 
cellos, then two tenors or violas and two violins, and 
in the hollow of the piano a desk on a high platform 
for Salomon with his ripieno. At the back, verging 
down to a point at each end, all these instruments 
were doubled, giving the requisite number for a full 
orchestra. Still further back, raised high up, were 
d.rums, and on either side the trumpets, trombones, 
bassoons, oboes, clarinets, flutes, &c., in numbers 
according to the requirements of the symphonies 
and other music to be played on the different 

The concert opened with a symphony of Haydn's 
that he brought with him, but which was not known 
in England. It consisted of four movements, pleas- 
ing, lively, and good. Our singers were Mara and a 
very interesting young woman, a Miss Chaun, David, 
and Tasca, and others of the day ; also, when they 
were at liberty, one or two from among Storace, the 
Misses Abrams, Parke, Poole, Mrs. Kennedy, Har- 
rison, and others, were chosen for each of the 
concerts. Among the instrumental solo or quartett 
performers were Madame Krumpholtus and Dussek, 


and as the first professors were in the orchestra, one 
or other of them always performed in duo or in 
concerted pieces. 

The second act invariably opened with a new 
symphony composed for the night. Haydn of 
course conducted his own music, and generally 
that of other composers, in fact all through the 

The Hanover Square Rooms are calculated to 

hold 800 persons exclusive of the performers. By 

the beginning of the second act we concluded that 

all had arrived who intended to come, and though 

we knew that Salomon's subscription list was not full, 

we had hoped for additions during the evening. But 

no ; and I regret to make this observation of my 

countrymen, that until they know what value they 

are Hkely to receive for their money they are slow 

in coming forward with it. An undertaking of this 

magnitude, bringing such a superior man from his 

own country as Haydn to compose for an orchestra 

filled with the highest professional skill and talent, 

should have met with every encouragement, first to 

show respect to the stranger and then to Salomon, 

who lived among us and had done so much for the 

musical world, in this case having taken such infinite 

trouble and incurred so much risk. 

Now the anxious moment arrived, and Salomon 
having called * attention ' with his bow, the company 


rose to a person and stood through the whole of the 
first movement. 

The effect was imposingly magnificent. The 
instruments might all be said to have an obbhgato 
part, so perfectly was the whole combination con- 
ceived and carried out. One of the movements was 
to imitate the London cries, and * live cod ' was to 
be traced through every instrument that could pro- 
duce the effect. The cry began the piece and ended 
it, and Salomon was wound up to a pitch of enthusi- 
asm beyond himself The applause was great. The 
public were satisfied, and Haydn was very properly 
taken up. 

His great talent is too well known for me to com- 
ment upon it. His twelve grand symphonies were 
composed expressly for this series of concerts, and 
he stands unrivalled in this style of composition. 
His grand oratorio, * The Creation,' was also written 
while he was in this country and added greatly to 
his fame, and he was sought after far and wide. In- 
deed, his amiabiUty, his unbounded talent in many 
ways, and his humiMty withal, his liberahty, and his 
every virtue could but bring him friends. 

He was then the leading professor of modern 
music, and his works must and surely will always be 
considered among the greatest of their class. 

My object for leaving home being now completed, 
I returned thither within the week, leaving EUza 


with my mother, as the warmer air of London seemed 
to suit her, and my brother was always glad to have 
any of my children near him, pleasing himself in 
amusing them, and showing them that kind of atten- 
tion that bespoke a kind heart. 

On my return I found Dr. Majendie, our vicar, in 
trouble over his flock, as they were holding seditious 
meetings in Windsor, and organising branches of the 
Corresponding and Eepublican Societies. He was, 
however, most zealous in the performance of his 
several duties, as were all the clergy of the neigh- 
bourhood, and all did their best, by precept and ex- 
hortation, to quiet down the unsettled minds of their 

Amongst other things, Dr. Majendie walked daily 
through the schools, and not being satisfied with the 
manner in which they were conducted, he came to beg 
of me to assist him in getting them into better order. 
Madame de Lafitte being in town, and Mrs. Thackaray 
very Uttle more enlivened, the gu'l's department was 
again becoming disorganised. 

I could not refuse to give a small portion of my 
time to so good a work, and during the few hours 
that I could devote to it, I hope I did my best. 
Such, at any rate, was my intention, and I think I 
did succeed in getting more order, regularity, and 
tidiness into that branch of the estabhshment. The 


work was not congenial to me, but I strove to do my 
* duty ' — ^my motto then and always. 

Thus abruptly does the manuscript written by 
Mrs. Papendiek close, and it is a matter of regret 
that the further record of those stirring times, with 
which she was so intimately connected, to use her 
own words, was never chronicled by her pen, but 
death stepped in and closed the earthly labours of 
that earnest and energetic character. She passed 
peacefully away within two months of her last entry 
in the volume of reminiscences which she was pre- 
paring as a labour of love, her cheerful happy 
nature remaining bright and trustful to the last. 



Further records of Mrs. Papendiek's life — ^Her sppointmentB at -the Ck^urt 
of Queen Charlotte as Assistant Keeper of the Wardrobe and 
Reader — Outline of the history of her daughter Mrs. Oom, afterwards, 
Mrs. Planta— Of Adolphus Kent Oom— Of Mrs. Papendiek s other 
children — Mr. George Arbuthnot — Marriage of the Prince of Wales 
— Birth of Princess Charlotte of Wales — ^Temporary unpopularity of 
the King— Marriage of the Princess Royal— Mr. Papendiek transferred 
to the Queen 8 own household — Character of Mr. Papendiek — ^His 
death — The King's health, mental and bodily — His fiuling sight and 
subsequent blindness — The regency established — ^The King's piety and 
resignation — ^The Queen — Her sad position — Death of Princess Char- 
lotte of Wales — The Queen s declining health — Her suffering — Her 
patience — Her death and burial — Mrs. Papendiek's affection for her 
Royal mistress — ^The remainder of her life passed in retirement — ^Her 

Not much in the way of family records remains to 
tell of the further life of Mrs. Papendiek, but from 
the few sources of information open to me I gather 
that she obtained the appointment at the Court of 
Queen Charlotte, which she held for some years, 
shortly after the occurrences narrated by her in the 
closing pages of her memoirs. 

It was probably in the year 1797 or 1798, I can- 
not ascertain the exact date, that she was appointed 
Assistant Keeper of the Wardrobe, the same post as 
that previously held by Miss Burney, though Mrs. 


Papendiek did not immediately succeed her. Later on 
she became Header to the Queen also, which position 
brought her into close contact with her Majesty, for 
whom she appears to have entertained a sincere 
affection, and from whom she experienced from first 
to last the utmost kindness and consideration, as also 
from the King, and, I may say, all the Koyal Family. 

Her children grew up in the atmosphere, so to 
speak, of the Court, but the regard and interest in 
their welfare uniformly manifested by their Majesties 
and the Princes and Princesses, did not result in any 
appointments being given to any members of Mrs. 
Papendiek's family, either at the Court, or in the 
service of King George EH., or of either of the suc- 
ceeding sovereigns, except in the case of her eldest 
daughter, Charlotte Augusta, who, after twice be- 
coming a widow, was given the post of occasional 
Eeader to her Boyal Highness the Duchess of Glou- 
cester, which she retained until her death. 

This daughter married first, in 1802, Mr. Thomas 
Oom, a Eussian merchant, who was then in a good 
position and wealthy; but a failure in his business 
occurring shortly after his marriage, Mrs. Oom at 
once determined upon undertaking the care and edu- 
cation of a few young ladies in order to augment her 
income. Being a remarkably well-informed, clever, 
accomplished woman, besides being a musician of 
more than the usual calibre of an amateur, this ven- 


ture succeeded, and she was enabled by her exertions 
to live in the same style of comfort and refinement to 
which she had been accustomed, and to educate her 
son at Eton. 

Her first child, Thomas, died in infancy, but the 
second son and only other child, Adolphus (so named 
after the Duke of Cambridge, one of his godfathers) 
Kent Oom, grew to manhood, and was for many 
years well-known in society and in the Foreign Office, 
being much respected throughout his career in that 
office, and at his death in 1858 being sincerely 
mourned by his many fidends. 

Mr. Oom eventually recovered his income and 
connection, and lived in comfortable circumstances 
till his death. 

Within a few years his widow married the Eight 
Honourable Joseph Planta, son of the Mr. Planta 
who was at one time Secretary of the British Museum, 
and nephew of the Misses Planta, constantly mentioned 
in the foregoing pages. Mr. Planta was Conservative 
member for Hastings for many years, and at different 
times held various posts in the Government — Secre- 
tary of her Majesty's Treasury, Under Secretary of 
State for Foreign Affairs, &c. He died in 1846, 
when Mrs. Planta was given apartments in Hampton 
Court Palace, where she lived till her death in 

Mrs. Papendiek's second daughter, Elizabeth 


Mary, died in 1801, at the age of fifteen, having 
been delicate from her birth. 

Frederick Henry, her eldest son, took orders, and 
became Vicar of Morden in Surrey, but he could 
have enjoyed this position but a very short time, as 
he died early in 1811, having only just completed 
his twenty-fourth year. 

George Ernest, still a baby at the time that the 
memoirs cease, eventually settled in Germany, and 
married. He died in 1835, leaving two sons and a 
daughter, the latter being still living. 

These are the four children of whom we have 
heard so much in Mrs. Papendiek's reminiscences. 
Subsequently she had two more children born to her, 
Charles Edward Ernest, who also died in 1835, and 
my mother, Augusta Amelia Adolphina, so named after 
their Eoyal Highnesses the Princesses Augusta and 
Amelia, and the Duke of Cambridge, her godparents. 
She was born in September 1804, married in 1828 
to Mr. George Arbuthnot, of the Treasury, and 
died in February 1853, leaving three sons and two 
daughters, all still living. My father, Mr. Arbuthnot, 
was in her Majesty's Treasury for upwards of forty-five 
years, and during his career in the Civil Service, he 
held various private secretaryships and other appoint- 
ments, the last of which, termed Auditor of the Civil 
List, he retained until his death in 1865. Through- 
out the whole of his long official life he was greatly 


and universally respected, being considered a very 
able man and a most valuable public servant. 

Of public events, the first of any moment after 
the year 1792, when Mrs. Papendiek's narrative 
ceases, was the marriage of the Prince of Wales with 
his cousin. Princess Caroline of Brunswick. This 
event, which took place on April 8, 1795, and the 
unhappiness of the Princess of Wales which followed 
this ill-starred union, the birth of their child, 
Princess Charlotte, and the subsequent separation 
of her parents, besides the disputes of the Prince 
with Pitt upon the question of the payment of his 
debts, are all matters of history, as is also the 
general feeling of discontent which at this time per- 
vaded the whole country, and the temporary unpopu- 
larity of the King. He was shot at in October 1795, 
while proceeding to the House of Lords, and again 
in 1800 on entering the Royal box at Drury Lane 
Theatre, several indignities being offered to the Queen 
also during this period of public disaffection. 

Upon the marriage of the Princess Eoyal with 
the Prince of Wurtemberg in June 1797, Mr. 
Papendiek's appointment to her Royal Highness 
ceased, but he accompanied her to Germany in the 
first instance, remaining with her for a short time 
more in the light of a friend. Upon his return to 
this country he was transferred to the Queen's own 
household and continued his attendance upon her 


Majesty till his death, which occurred very unex- 
pectedly in Germany while on a visit to his relations 
in that country. 

Mr. Papendiek was a peculiarly amiable man, his 
great characteristic being his general kind-hearted- 
ness and tenderness, especially to women, though he 
had a hasty, almost passionate, temper. He was 
very simple in his tastes and habits, and to the last 
retained many of the manners and customs of his 
native country. I have heard my mother say that 
he never lost his foreign accent, and that though he 
spoke English fluently and well, there were certain 
words of which he could never acquire the correct 
pronunciation. In person he was handsome, with a 
fine figure and of great muscular strength, of which 
an anecdote I have heard my mother repeat is 
illustrative. Carrying upon some occasion a small 
piece of china to his daughter's house in a paper 
parcel he, in his endeavour to convey it with the 
utmost care, crushed it in his hand with such force 
that on arrival it was found to be in fragments. He 
was a good husband and father, and particularly 
devoted to his children, who in return revered and 
fondly loved him. 

Within a few years the King's health became 
again a source of anxiety, but his first attack of 
illness being entirely caused by a cold and being 
apparently unaccompanied by mental derangement, 



the alarm for a time passed away, and his Majesty 
continued to transact business as usual. He did 
not, however, during the season of 1801 hold any 
levees or attend any theatres, public concerts, or 
other entertainments, the Court festivities being on 
his account almost entirely given up, only small 
private parties being held. 

Returning much recruited from his sojourn at 
Weymouth, which had now become almost of annual 
recurrence, the King was enabled at the end of 
October to open Parliament in person ; but his con- 
valescence was, unhappily, not of long duration. 

The Royal Family continued during this and 
several succeeding years to live very quietly, and 
almost entirely at Windsor, his Majesty's health, 
both as regarded his bodily ailments and the state of 
his mind, becoming daily more and more unsatis- 
factory. His sight also at this time began to fail, 
and the rapid advance towards bhndness added 
greatly to the deplorable condition of the poor King. 
The climax came in the year 1811, when the 
Regency was established, which lasted till the close of 
this long and troubled reign ; for his Majesty's mind, 
although he had many lucid intervals of longer or 
shorter duration, never sufficiently regained its tone 
to make it advisable that he should be troubled with 
the cares of sovereignty. 

From private sourzes, however, I glean that the 


King's sad malady never assumed a condition of 
actual insanity, it being caused more by a loss of 
mental power than an aberration of intellect ; and 
many very pathetic stories are told of his Majesty's 
own knowledge of his state and of his fervent prayers 
to the Almighty for restoration to health, coupled with 
a simple and pious resignation to the Divine will. 

During this long, dreary period the Queen's 
position was a very melancholy one. She was 
affectionately attached to her husband, and to watcli 
the gradual decay of one so beloved was in itself 
most distressing, added to which she was constantly 
placed in very trying circumstances from her official 
position as custodian of the King's person. 

Later on came the political difficulties and other 
troubles occasioned by the long war, when her 
Majesty shared some of the ill-will shown by the 
populace to all members of the higher circles of tlie 

The death of the Princess Charlotte of Wales in 
November 1817 was a great shock to the Queen, 
and her own health, which had already begun to fail, 
now rapidly gave way. 

Patient to a degree, and to the last thoughtful 
and considerate to her family and to all those in 
attendance upon her, the critical condition into 
which her Majesty had fallen was not realised by 
those about her till very shortly before her death. 

X '2 


She suffered a great deal at the last, and awaited 
her approaching end not only with resignation, but 
with an earnest longing for freedom from all earthly 
cares. On November 16, 1818, Queen Charlotte 
passed calmly away at Kew, the Prince Regent, 
the Duke of York, Princess Augusta, and the Duchess 
of Gloucester being present. Her Majesty was 
buried at Windsor. 

I cannot ascertain how long my grandmother 
held her Court appointment, but I believe she was 
with the Queen almost, if not quite, till the time of 
her death. The close and intimate intercourse that 
subsisted between them during this long period of 
trouble and anxiety cemented the affection that had 
for many years been entertained by Mrs. Papendiek 
for her Royal mistress, after whose death she lived in 
comparative retirement^ principally at Kew, in a 
house, now pulled down, that had been granted to 
her within the Royal domain ; but she died, and was 
buried at Windsor in 1839, retaining to the last 
the affectionate regard of those of the Princes and 
Princesses who remained in tliis country, as did also 
then and for some years longer her eldest and 
y^oungest daughters, Mrs. Planta and my mother, the 
only children then left to her. 

As each member of the old Royal Family passed 
away, a link of the connection and, if I may venture 
to use the term, the friendship which had for so long 


existed between them and my mother's family was 
broken ; and now all intercourse has entirely ceased, 
though in my childhood I frequently with my mother 
visited Princess Augusta, she being also my god- 
mother ; and my brothers and I spent many happy 
days at Gloucester House witli Princess Mary of 
Cambridge, now H.R.H. the Duchess of Teck. 


ABEL, Mr., i. 66. 76, 133, 160, 

163, 16*, 166, 186, 202, 207, 

Abercom, Lord, i. 7; il 133, 166, 


— Marchionese of, ii. 132, 133 
Abercrombie, Qeneral Sir Ralph, 

ii. 196 
Abington, Mra., i. 137, 148, 189, 

204, 250 
Abrams, Mr., ii. 96 

— Miss. ii. 296 
Addington, Dr., ii. 13 
Adolphus Frederick (Duke of 

Cambridge), i. 63, 64, 90, 103; 
ii. 19, 93, 302, 303 

Atrnew, Mrs., ii. 149 

AilesbuiT, Lord, ii. 72, 116, 214 

Aiton, Mr., ii. 62 

Albert, Mr. Frederick, i. 1, 4,6, 13, 
16, 16, 19, 23, 24, 26, 30, 36, 
38, 39, 44. 46, 64, 66, 69, 60, 
66,67,68,70,71, 76,79,101, 
110, 119, 121, 123, 126, 127, 
129, 130, 139, 140, 141, 146, 
146, 147, 151, 160-163, 166, 

167, 173-176, 178, 191, 198, 
200, 201, 207, 212, 226, 227, 
228. 239, 240, 241, 244, 246, 
260, 266, 269, 283, 285, 300, 
301, 306. 30J), 316; u. 6, 12, 
60, 70, 72-77, 112, 123, 164, 

168, 176, 189, 191-197, 219, 

— Mrs. Frederick, i. 24,28, 29,31, 
37-40, 64. 69, 60, 66, 68, 70, 
101-104, 110, 118, 121, 122, 
123, 129, 130, 139, 140, 141, 

167, 166-169, 174, 176, 178, 
183, 189, 200, 206, 207. 226, 
246, 249. 260, 266, 267, 280, 
283, 286, 297, 300, 816,316; 
ii. 67, 72, 163, 164, 191, 197, 
219, 220, 263, 264, 264, 298 
Albert, Qeorge (eldest son of 
the above), i. 26, 28 

— Georure Edward (second aon), 
i. 39, 40 

— George Frederick (third son), 
i. 46, 60, 68. 70, 76, 77, 78, 
96, 146, 147. 166, 176, 176, 
179, 192, 193, 197, 200, 225, 
246, 249, 282-287, 291, 300, 
301, 316; ii. 67, 71, 72, 84, 
123, 163, laS, 191, 192, 193, 
196, 197, 220, 245, 246, 266, 

— Charlotte Louisa Henrietta, 
eldpst daughter (afterwards 
Mrs. Papendiek), L 37-42, 
44, 46, 64, 63-78, 7«h-79, 
81,82, 96-112, 114, 116-119, 
121-126, 129, 180, 131, 136- 
14;i, 146-148, 160, 161, 166, 
167,158,161,162, 164-177 

— Sophia • Dorothea (second 
daughter), i. 46, 46, 69 

— Sophia (third daughter), i. 70, 
71,72,129,131,145, 156,176, 
176, li»3, 194, 200, 201, 225. 
249, 297, 300 ; ii. 35, 100, 191, 
227, 228, 266, 266, 266 

— Mr. Louis (brother of the 
above), i. 63. 59, 104, 176, 176, 
179, 200, 226; ii. 28, 41, 42, 
169, 172, 189-192 




Albert, Mre. Louis, i. 166, 176, 
179, 199, 200, 226; ii. 40,41, 
42, 77, 169, 172, 294 

— Hugh (eldest 8on),i. 211,267; 
ii. 189, 196 

— William (second son), ii. 189 

— Charlotte (eldest daughter), 
i. 107, 167, 176, 200 ; ii. 37, 40, 
41, 42, 77, 106, 171. 172, 189, 

Alfred, Prince, i. 130, 310 
AUegranti (comedian), i. 110, 

' Alvensleben, Baron, ii. 48 
Amelia, Princess (aunt of the 

King), L 267 

— Princess, i. 197, 221, 222,246; 
ii. 74, 123, 161, 216, 217, 220, 

Amherst, Lord, i. 120 
Ancaster, Duchess of, i. 6, 10, 16, 

Andrews, Sir Joseph, ii. 214, 215 
Anson, Lord, i. 6, 7 
Arbuthnot, Mr. George, i. 66, 

801 ; ii. 303 

— Mrs. George, i. 66, 186, 296, 
306; ii. 146,146,303,308 

— Miss Ann, i. 66 
Ame, Dr., i. 19 
Aston, Harry, ii. 169 
Augusta, Princess, i. 41, 127, 

199,218, 219,264, 806; ii. 8, 
29, 33, 39, 66, 72, 74, 87, 102, 
112, 161, 168, 174, 188, 206, 
208, 216, 219, 240, 244, 266, 
274, 283, 286, 287, 289, 303, 

Aujfustus Frederick, Prince (see 
Duke of Sussex) 

Aylett, Mr., i. 308 

Aylward, Dr., ii. 97, 109, 188 

BAUELLI (actor), i. 110, 136, 

Bach, Johann Christian, i. 66, 76, 
133, 134, 136, 138, 142, 143, 
160-166, 233, 317 ; ii. 41, 190 

— Madame, i. 109, 138, 152, 163, 


Bagot, Lord G., ii. 277 
Baker, Dr. Sir George, i. 297, 
298; u. 7, 10, 18 

— Betsy, ii. 79 
Bald¥nn, Mr., i. 286, 299 
Banks, Sir Joseph, i. 253, 254, 

276,282,299; ii. 148 
Banner, Mr., ii. 160 
Bannister, Mr., i. 190 
-r- Mrs., ii. 137 
Barclay, Mr., i. 19, 20, 21, 23 

— the Misses, i. 21 
Barlow, Mr., if. 210 

— Mrs., ii. 202, 203, 204, 209, 
210, 293 

— Barrington, lx)rd, ii^ 115 
Barth^lomon. Mr., i. 149 
Bartolozzi, Mr., ii. 294 

— Miss, ii. 286 
Barton, Miss, i. Ill, 171 
Bath, Marquis of, ii. 116 
Batty, Mrs., i. 323 
Bautebart, i. 161, 279 
Beachcroft, Mrs., ii. 206 
Bedford, Duke of, i. 96 
Beethoven, Louis von. i. 165 
Belgrave, Lord, i. 232 
Bellamy, Mr., i. 109, 167 
Bella/<v8e, Lady Charlotte, i. 324 

— Lady EiizaWh, i. 324 
Benser, Mr., i. 102; ii. 41 
Hentinck, Lady Harriet, i. 12 
Ftefisborough, Lord, i. 216 
Billington, Mrs., i, 233, 234, 239, 

266; ii. 173, 203, 238, 254, 

Bishop, Mr., Mrs., and Miss, ii. 

Blackman, Mrs., i. 191 
Blagrove, Mrs., ii. 176, 221, 232, 


— sons, ii. 105, 106, 140, 158, 
176, 227, 232, 238, 242, 247 

— Mr., ii. 248 
Blick, Dr., i. 286 
Blomfield, Dr., i. 42. 70, 71 
Blount, Miss, i. 56 
Blumenthal, Miss, ii. 274 
Boney, Monsieur, ii. 78 
Borghi, i. 187 

l^rrien, Madame, ii, 169 
Bosenberg, Mr., i. 138 




Bofltock, Rev. Charles, i. 316, 318, 
330; ii. 139.279 

— Dr. John, ii. 223 
Bowes, Miss, i. 76 
Bowman, Mr., ii. 91, 112, 219 
Boyoe, Captain, i. 112, 116 

— Dr., i. 19 
Braddjl, Mr., ii. 278 
Brent, Miss, i. 137 
Bridgetower, Mr., ii. 134-141, 

146, 163, 164, 166, 177, 178, 

— Ralph West, ii. 134-141, 146, 
166, 177, 178, 179 

Bridgewater, Dachess of, i. 143 

— Earl of, i. 281 
Bristol, Bishop of, i. 63 
Broadwood, i. 13, 134; ii. 184, 

Brooker, Mrs., ii. 261, 264 
Broughton, Captain, i. 190, 191 
Brown, Mr.,i. 121, 126, 127, 128, 

269 ; ii. 27, 121, 122, 127, 169, 

221, 222 

— Mrs., i. 121 

— Mr., ii. 170 

— Miss, ii. 172 
Brudenell, Viscount, ii. 211 
Bruhl, Count, i. 61, 128 
Brun, Madame le, ii. 262 
Brunswick, Prince Ferdinand of, 

i. 43 

— Princess of, i. 44 

— Princess Caroline of, iL 304 
Bruyftre, Monsieur de, i. 73 
Buckeridge, Miss, ii. 226 
Burke, Mr. Edmund, i. 163 
Burgess, Mr., ii. 106, 106, 140, 

168, 169, 176, 206, 221, 226, 
227, 232, 242, 247, 248 

— Mrs., ii. 146 
Burney, Mrs., ii. 149 

— Dr., ii. 260 

— Miss, i. 17, 62, 96,113,206,207, 
209, 219, 306, 310, 312, 316, 
329; ii. 3, 4, 6, 29, 32, 40, 72, 77, 
112, 114, 142, 168, 219, 238, 
259, 260, 269, 271, 300 

Bute, Lord, i. 22, 23, 27, 33, 49 
Butler, Mr., i. 180 
Byron, Lord, i. 66 

— Mr., i. 274 


CALVERT, Mr., ii. 33 
Cambridge, Duke of, i. 63, 64, 90, 
103; u. 19, 93, 264, 302, 303 

— Princess Mary Adelaide of, ii. • 

Campo, Marquis del, i. 261 ; ii. 

Canon, Miss Susan, 329 
Canterbury, Archbishop of 

(Seeker), i. 11,19; ii. 84 

— (Moore), ii. 274, 292 
CantUo, Miss, i. 109, 136, 142, 

143, 160, 161, 162, 168 
Carbonel, Mr., ii. 138 

— Miss, ii. 138 

Cardigan, Earl of, i. 324 : ii. 211 

Carhampton, Lady, ii. 278 

Carmarthen, Marquis of, i. 274 

Caroline of Brunswick, Priucess 
of Wales, ii. 169, 304 

Caroline Matilda, Queen of Den- 
mark, i. 32, 36 

Carter, Mrs., ii. 92, 93 

(^atalani, Madame, i. 214 

Catley, Miss, iL 158 

Catherine, Empress of Russia, i. 
252 ; u. 129 

Cavallo, Mr., ii. 149 

Cervetto (pianist), i. 94, 136, 156, 
202, 203, 223, 231 

Chamberlain, Mr., ii. 11, 92 

Chambers, Sir William, i. 42, 46, 

Chapman, Captain, i. 70 

— Mr., i. 27, 96 

— Mrs., i. 28,41,61,96 

— Miss, i. 28, 112 

Charlotte Sophia, Queen, i. 2-34, 
36^39, 41, 43, 46, 46, 48, 60, 
64, 68, 69, 71, 72, 76, 78, 90, 
94, 102, 106, 124, 126, 130, 
144, 146, 147, 161, 152, 163, 
160, 161, 162, 174, 178, 179, 
181, 189, 193, 197-202, 212, 
217-224, 228, 229, 238. 241, 
246, 248, 266, 268, 269, 261- 
266, 269-273, 293, 297, 301, 
803-806, 306, 308-316, 318, 
326-4?29; ii. 2-18, 20, 23-30, 
82, 33, 34, 38, 89, 63, 66-60, 
62-66, 68, 72-75, 84, 87, 92-96, 
08-104, 111-116, 120, 123,126, 




128, 130, 133, 134, 136, 141- 
144, 148, 149, 162, 163, 169, 
160, 163, 168, 174, 181, 186, 
186-189, I»a-196, 200-203, 
206-211, 214r-217, 219-224, 
281, 232, 236, 237, 238, 240, 
241, 244, 268, 269, 265, 267- 
270, 272-276, 283, 286, 287, 
300, 304-308 ^ 

CharlotteAiigxiBta,Prince88 Royal, 
i. 38, 127, 199, 218, 219, 229, 
246, 264, 266, 298, 299, 305, 
310; ii. 8, 29, 39,66, 72,74, 
87.92,93, 102,112, 150,161, 
168, 174, 186, 206, 207, 216, 
217, 219, 240, 242, 244, 268, 
269, 274, 2a3, 286, 287, 289, 

— of Wales, Princess, i. 74, 76, 
106,162; ii. 123, 304, 307 

Charles, Prince (of Mecklen- 

burgh), L 167 
Chatham. Lord, i. 22, 228 
Chaun, Miss, ii. 296 
Chaworth, Mr., i. 66 

— Miss, i. 56 

Cheshire, Mr., i. 318-321, 823 

— Mrs., i. 818, 319, 320. 323 

— the Misses, i. 819, 320, 323, 
324, 325 

Chesterfield, Lord, i. 80 
Cheveley, Mr8.,i. 61,62, 74, 127, 

130, 221 
Choie, Monsieur, i. 257 
Churchill, Lady Mary, i. 73 ; ii. 

Clarke, Mr. Isaac, ii. 261, 263 

— Mrs. ii. 261, 263 

— John, i. 266, 290 ; ii. 84, 121, 
221, 222 

— Mrs. John, ii. 221 
Clarence, Duke of, i. 37, 41, 42, 

61, 73, 104, 268, 269 
Clay, Mr., i. 123, 126, 176, 177, 
212. 213 

— Mrs., i. 176, 182 
Clement, Mr., ii. 121 
Clementi (pianist), i. 155, 203; 

ii. 41, 140, 172, 189, 294 
Clewly, Mr., i. 52 
Cobb, Mr., L 246 
Cole (Town Clerk), ii. 257 


CornpDn, Mr., i. 73, 74, 127, 130, 
104, 199; ii. 11,20,21,28 

Cooper, Mr., i. 285 

Copland, Mr., i. 267 

Corelli, i. 165 

Coss^, Mr., ii. 203 

Coultsworth, Miss, i. 47, 61 

Courtenay,Dr. (Bishop of Exeter), 
i. 74 

Courtown, Earl of, ii. 121 

— Lady, ii. 26, 30, 121, 144 
Coventry, Lady, i. 149 
Cox, ii. 11 

Cramer, pianist, i. 65, 76, 94, 133, 
134, 149, 161, 156, 207,236; 
ii. 179, 184, 203 

— John, ii. 41, 179, 184, 203 
Crawford, Dr., ii. 212 

— Mr., i. 186,203 

Cremome, Lady, ii. 132, 133, 144 
Crosdill, pianist, i. 94, 133, 135, 
155, 231, 234, 236 

— violoncellist, i. 202, 203, 223, 
236, 316 

Cumberland, Ernest Augustus, 
Duke of, i. 46, 103, 293, 30i> 

— Henry, Duke of, i. 35, 37, 
233 ; ii. 20, 57, 181, 238, 239, 
257, 258, 278 

— William, Duke of, i. 11, 33 

— Duchess of, ii. 230, 258. 278 

— Mr., ii. 268 

Curtis, Sir William, ii. 292 
Cutler, Messrs., ii. 249, 262 

DACRE, Miss, i. 74 
Davenport, Mr., i. 227 

— Mrs., i. 227 

David (singer), i. 256 ; ii. 254, 

Dawes, Mr., ii. 166 
Day, Sir John, i. 90, 100 

— Lady, i. 90, 160 
Deerhurst, Lord, i. 171 
D'Egville, Monsieur, ii. 286, 287 
Delany,Mr8,i.206; ii. 149, 150 
Delavaux, Mr., i. 244, 272, 289, 

2{^; ii. 105, 109, 127, 1&6, 
163, 170, 229, 232, 242, 248, 
264, 265, 272 

— Mrs., i. 235, 237, 272, 289 ; 




ii 109, 127, 156, 168,170,229, 

Delavaux, Miss, i. 320 ; ii. 256 
Deltit, Monsieur, ii. 244 
Deluc, Mrs., i. 250, 310 ; ii. 236, 

237, 259, 267 
Denmark, King of, i. 43, 144 

— Prince Royal of, i. 32 

— Queen of, i. 35 

Denoyer, Monsieur, i. 64 ; ii. 283 
Derby, Lord, i. 148, 149, 150; 

ii. 199 
Dere, Mr., ii. 78 

Devaynes, Mr., i. 71, 179 ; ii. 245 
Devonshire, Duke of, i. 211, 212, 


— Duchess of, i. 105, 115, 209, 
212,215; ii. 164 

Digby, Admiral, i. 104 

Dillon, Baron, ii. 80, 81, 82, 96, 
106, 110, 135, 139, 202, 203, 
204, 207, 261, 252, 255 

Disbrowe, Colonel, i. 9 

Dixon, Miss, i. 65 

Dodd, Dr., i. 79, 80, 81. 124, 125 

Dorset, Duke of, i. 149, 150 

Douglas, Captain, iL 113 

— Mr., ii. 150 

— Miss, ii. 150 

— Dr. (see Bishop of Salisbury) 
Downs, Mi8s,i. 30, 37 
Doxatt, Mrs., i. 88 

Dressier, Dr., i. 78, 164, 183 

— Miss, i. 1(55 
Drummond, Mr., i. 6 
Duberly, Mr., i. 183, 197, 290, 

291,292,295; ii. 170 

— Mrs., i. 292, 296 
Dubourg, Mr., i. 76 

Duck, The Misses, i. 61 ; ii. 32 
Duncan, il 111, 112, 142, 219, 

Dundas, Mr., i. 72 
Duport, Monsieur, L 187, 203 
Dussek (pianist), i. 156, 316; ii. 

184, 185, 188, 253, 295 
Dutton, Mr., i. 7 

EARLE, Dr., i. 286 
Edward Augustus, Prince (<ee 
Duke of Kent) 


Edwin (actor), ii. 173, 239 
Effingham, Lady Howard of, i. 

65,74; ii.278 
Egerton, Colonel, i. 92, 143, 281 ; 


— Mrs., i. 281 
Elliot, General, ii. 239 
Elizabeth, Princess, i. 45, 127, 

218, 219, 264, 265, 272, 292, 
293, 805, 309, 310 ; ii. 8, 29, 
89, 56, 72, 74, 87, 112, 150. 
161, 168, 174, 188, 190, 200, 
216, 219, 240, 244, 274, 283, 
285, 287, 289 
EDglebardt, Mr., i. 51 ; ii. 45 

— Mrs., i. 53 

Ernest Augustus, Prince (see 
Duke of Cumberland) 

— Prince (see Mecklenburgh) 
Ernst, Mr., i. 105, 156, 160, 306. 

309; 1111,52,90,91,294 
Esterhazy, Prince, ii. 290 
Eveleigh, Miss, i. 55, 58, 66, 98 
Evelyn, Mr., ii. 97 
Eves, Miss, i. 193 
Exeter, Bishop of, i. 74 

FARHILL, Mr., i. 73 

Farren,Miss,L 187, 148, 149, 150, 
173, 190, 244, 249, 250; ii, 

Fauconberg, Earl, 303, 319, 323, 

— Lady, i. 823, 324 
Ferdinand, Prince (tee Wiirtem- 


— Prince (see Brunswick) 
Relding, Captain, i. 270 ; ii. 16 

— Mrs., i. 270 ; ii. 16 

— the Misses, i. 270 ; ii. 16, 17, 

Finch, Lady Charlotte, i. 47, 73, 
127, 179, 219, 268-270, 273 ; 
ii. 6, 16, 27, 72, 172, 189, 240 

— Miss, i. 270 
Finlay, Mr.,i. 53 

Fischer, i. 66, 143, 144, 155, 186, 
203, 207, 224, 231 

— Dr., ii. 109,147, 148, 152 

— MiB., ii. 110, 111, 147, 148 




Fisher, Dr., ii. 226 

— the llev. John {see Biahop of 

Pltzgerald, Captain, i. 160 

— Lord Robert, ii. 17 

— Lord Edward, iL 17 
Fitzherbert, Mrs., i. 257, 268,269 
Fitzroy, Liuly Anne, ii. 274 
FojrWer, Abb^, i. 266 ; ii. 268 
Folfitoue, the Misses, ii. 136, 137, 

143 144 
Ford, Dr., i. 180 
Forrest, Mr., i. 278, 316; ii. 38, 

39, 40, 98, 139, 146, 166, 229, 

248, 272 

— Mrs., U. 118, 166,272 
Forsyth, i. 302 
Fortnum, ii. 28 
Foster, Miss, i. 826 

Fox, Mr. Charles, i. 36, 36, 166, 
209-212, 228, 297 ; iL 33, 69, 

Fox-Strangways, Lady Susan, i. 

Frame, Mr., i. 62 

Frederica Charlotte Ulrica, Prin- 
cess Royal of Prussia {eee 
Duchess of York) 

Frederick, Prince (Me Duke of 

Frisker, i. 279 

Frowd, ii. 166, 231, 232 

— , Mrs., ii. 232 

Fnr, Mr., i. 66, 66, 111,117, 170, 

~Mrs.,i. 66; ii.l07 

— Miss, i. 66,66,66,107,108,171 
Fr?er, Dr., ii. 166-168 
Fuhling, Mr., i. 129, 187 ; ii. 25 

— Mrs.,!. 129 

— Miss, i. 129 

Fuller, Mrs. Thomas, ii. l46 
Fuseli, Mr., ii. 166-168 

GAINSBOROUGH, i. 106, 114, 

116, 271, 272 
Gale, Miss, i. 106 
Galli, Mademoiselle, i. 109 
Ganas, i. 134 
Gardel, i. 110,189 
Garrick, i. 204, 205 


Garth, General, ii. 131 

Garton, Mr., ii. 160, 162, 288, 

Gascoigne, Mr. and Mrs., ii 201, 


— the Misses, i. 267 
Gates, i. 290, 291 
Geor^ IL, KiD^, i. 2 

— III., King, i. 2, 4, 8, 10-14, 
17-26, 30, 32-^, 42, 43, 49, 
60. 66, 66, 78, 94, 103, 106, 
120, 121, 124, 126, 144, 160- 
163, 189, 193, 196, 202, 205, 

206, 213, 216, 217, 219, 221, 
222, 225, 230, 239, 241, 246, 
254, 257-262, 264, 270, 271, 
272, 275, 277, 297, 298, 303, 
304, 306, 309, 810, 311, 312, 
318, 326, 327, 328; ii. 6^1, 
33, 34, 54-67, 61^68, 71-75, 
81-84, 87-93, 97-101, 104, 
105, 108, 112-116, 120, 122, 
126, 127, 129, 132, 134, 136, 
149, 160, 169, 160, 168, 174, 
185-190, 200, 202, 203, 207, 
208, 211, 214-217, 219-222, 
233-237, 239, 240, 244, 254, 
265, 266, 267, 272-276, 288, 
287, 290, 291, 292, 300, 301, 

— IV., King, i. 26, 29; ii. 33, 

— Augustus Frederick, Prince 
(m« Prince of Wales) 

Geminioni, i. 166 

Germany, Emperor of, i. 84, 184 ; 

ii. 80/81, 127, 239 
Giardini, i. 133, 149, 189, 200, 

207, 234 ; ii. 179 

Gibbons, the Rev. Canon, i. 288, 

— Mrs., i. 326 
Giffiud, Mr., i. 232 
Giffiudi^re, Monsieur, i. 64 
Gloucester, Duke of, i. 11,27; 

ii. 113 

— Duchess of, ii. 181, 301, 308 
Goldsmith,!. 114 
Goldsworthy, General, i. 272 ; ii. 


— Miss,i. 61, 01, 130, 273; ii. 
6, 13, 16, 26, 72 




Oomm, MisB, ii. 74 
Goner, i. 279 

Goodall, the Rev. S., i. 1P7 
Gordon, DuchesA of, ii. 101 

— Lady Charlotte, ii. 169 

— Lord George, L 118, 119 
Gore (singer), i. 289, 310; ii. 139, 

Gosset, Mrs., ii. 149 
Graeme, General, i. 2, 5, 6, 8 
Grafton, Duke of, i. 8 
Graham, Mr. and Mrs., ii. 40 

— Mrs., i. 317 
Grant, Captain, i. 320 
Grape, Mr., i. 309 

— Mrs.ii. 137 

— the Rev. Canon, ii. 137 
Grasse, Count de, i. 156, 165 
Green, Miss, ii. 77, 78, 214 

— Mr., i. 61 

— (organ builder"), ii. 98 
Greene, Mrs., i. 137, 190 
Gretiville, Lord, ii. 7, 55 
Grevilie, Lady Louisa, i. 12 
Griesbach, Messrs., i. 142, 288, 

31(5, 826, 327, 328, 330; ii.38, 

126, 135, 162, 236, 257, 271 
Grieswell, iL 4, 11, 92, 112, 220, 

Griffiths, Mr., ii. 192, 193, 194, 


— Miss, ii. 92, 196 

— Mrs., i. 38 
Grosvenor, Lord, i. 232 
Grove,Mr., i. 96, 101 

— Mrs., i. 96, 101, 116, 171 
Guard, the Misses, i. 317 ; ii. 

Guest, Miss, i. 162, 263 
Gunning, General, i. 295 
Gwyn, Mrs., i. 48 

II AGEDORN, Mademoiselle, i. 6, 

13, 26, 304 ; ii. 259 
Haines, Major, L 143 

— Miss, i. 281 

ITallum, Mr. and Miss, ii. 150 
Hamilton, Duchess of, i. 5, 22, 

— Lady Anne, i. 12 

— Lady Betty, i. 149 

Hamilton, Miss, i. 127 

Handel, i. 19, 155, 188,316.328; 

u. 110, 184 
Harcourt, Earl, i. 6, 272 ; ii. 72 

— Lady Elizabeth, i. 12 
Hardwicke, Lord, i. 4 
Harper, Miss, i. 190 
Harris, Mr., i. 126, 137 

— Mr., ii. 235 

— Mrs., i. 271 
Harrison, Mr., ii. 95 

— Mrs., ii. 96, 296 
Harrop, Miss, i. 189 
Hassler, Mr., ii. 257, 258 
Hastings, Mrs., ii. 37 
Hatch, Mr., ii. 202 
Haverfield, Mr., i. 62, 145, 187 

— Mrs., i. 106, 129, 139, I45, 
156, 187 

— John, i. 62 ; ii. 62 

— Thomas, i. 62 ; ii. 52 
Hawes, ii. 236, 241 
Hawkins, Dr. Caesar, i. 49 ; ii. 122 

— Dr. Pennell, L 49, 74, 270; 
ii. 122 

— , Mre., ii. 45 

Haydn, i. 156, 289, 316; ii. 136, 

190, 210, 235, 263, 271, 289, 

290. 292, 295-297 
Healey, ii. 91 
Heath, Dr., i. 283; ii. 249 

— the Misses, ii. 249, 250 
Heathiield, Lord, ii. 230 
Heberden, Dr., i. 298 ; ii. 7, 149, 


Henderson, Mr. (actor), i. 189, 
204, 205, 206 

Henry, Prince (gee Duke of 

Herschel, Dr., i. 246, 261-266, 
263, 275, 282, 288, 299, 300, 
816, 330; ii. 126, 129, 189, 
147, 149-163, 234, 260-271 

— Miss, i. 246, 261, 263, 276, 
282 299 

— Mr^., i. 800, 816 ; ii. 129, 147, 
168, 269, 270 

— Alexander, i. 253; ii. 270 
Hesse-Cassel, Prince of, i. 267 
Hesse-Homburg, Landgravine of, 

U. 172 




Ilexter, Mrs., i. 197 
Hicks, Captain, ii. 17 
Hill, i. 314 
Hodgson, Mr., ii. 238 

— Mrs., ii. 237, 238 
Hoffham, Mrs., i. 164, 166 
Holdernewe, Countess of, i. 128, 


— Earl of, i. 274 

Holland, KinR: of, i. 292; ii. 

— Queen of, i. 292 

— Loid, L 228 

— Sir Nathaniel, ii. 77 

— Lady, ii. 77 
Hollis, i. 52 

Hood,Lord, i.209,210 
Hopkins, Mr., L 317 

— Mrs., ii. 261 
Hoppner, Mr., i. 232, 296 

— Mrs., i. 296 

Hordenberg, Baron and Baroness, 

i. 263 
Horn, Dr., ii. 205, 212 

— Mr. Thomas, ii. 205, 206 

— Mrs. Thomas, i. 88 ; ii. 206, 

— Mr.,ii. 190,234 

— Miss, ii. 206 

— Mr. Charles, i. 255, 256; ii. 
169, 264, 265. 272 

— Mrs., i. 256; ii. 264, 265, 

House, Messrs., i. 211 
Howard, Lady Betty, i. 74 

— Lord, ii. 20 

Howe, Lady Mary, ii. 211 
Hewlett, Miss, i. 157 
Hughes, Mr., ii. 181 
Hulmandel, i. 316, 317, 326 ; ii. 

41, 188 
HiUse, Colonel, i. 92, 159, 160, 

Hummel, i. 155 
Hiiniber, Madame, i. 169 

— Mr., ii. 197 
Hiinnemann, Mr., 200, 230, 236 ; 

ii. 170, 171 

— Mrs., 293; ii. 170, 171, 255 
Hunter, Dr., i. 130 

Hurd, Dr. (sm Bishop of Wor- 

INGRAM, Miss, ii. 159 
Isham, Mr. and Mrs., i. 96 

JACKSON, Dr., ii. 294 
Jacobi, Baron, ii. 268 

— Miss. u. 267, 268. 269, 271 
James, Mrs., 57, 110, 171 
Janssen family, ii. 294 

Jarvis, Mt., i. 277 ; ii. 88, 39, 40, 

Jervois, Mr., i. 318, 325.326 ; ii. 36, 
37, 82, 96, 136, 138, 139, 202, 
203, 206, 210, 2iK), 248, 251 

— Mr. (jun.), 1.325 

— Mrs., i. 318, 326, 328, 329, 
330; ii. 36, 37, 82, 96, lOo, 
106, 202, 203, 204, 207, 210, 

— the Misses, i. 326 ; ii. 82, 202, 
203, 204, 210 

Johnson, Dr. Samuel, i. 96, 100, 

Jordan, Mrs., i. 232, 260 ; ii. 173 
Joseph II. (see Emperor of Ger- 

KAMAZUSH, General, ii. 120, 

130, 147 
Kamm (flutist), L 231 
Kamus, Mr., 90, 160, 163, 170, 

306; ii. 11, 90, 112, 126, 127, 


— William, i. 91 
Kaufmann, Angelica, 1. 114 
Kay, Mrs., i. 55, 56, 58. 98, 108, 

118, 168, 170, 171 ; ii. 107 

— Miss, i. 56, 111,172 
Mr., i. 55, 117, 170, 172 

Kead, i. 173, 175, 178, 186, 199, 

222,237,292; ii. 171, 293 
Keate, Mr., ii. 193-196 

— Robert, ii. 196 

Keene, Mr. Whitshed, ii. 33 
Kellner, i. 203, 223. 231, 316 
Kemble, Mr., ii. 133, 181 

— Mrs., ii. 133, 173, 181 
Kennedy, Mr., i. 225 

— Mrs., i. 256; ii. 254, 295 
Kennett (Lord Mayor), i. 23, 121 
Kennicott, Mr. and Mrs., i. 310 




Kent, Duke of, i. 30, 61, 73, 268 
Keppel, Admiral, i. 101 

— Lady Elizabeth, i. 12 
Kerr, Ladv Essex, i. 12 
Khrone, Dr., i. 220 
Kiflfr, Mr., i. 123, 126. 182 
—Mrs., i. 182 

— 1.260 

— Miss, ii. 202 
Kinloch, Sir David, ii. 209 
Kirby,Mr.,i. 47, 106, 129 
Knight, Mr., ii. 195 
Knissel, Miss, ii. 257, 268 
Knyvett, Mr., i. 66, 102 
Kohler, Mr., ii. 165,198, 202,241, 

262, 266 

— Mrs., ii. 262 
Kotzebue, ii. 167 
Kozebucb, i. 316-^27 ; ii. 169 
Kmmpholtus, Madame, ii. 185, 

Kuffe, Mr., L 30 

LAFITTE, Madame de, i. 310; 

ii. 136, 143, 153, 217,223, 224, 

Lake, General, i. 92, 159,160, 258, 

Lang, Mr., i. 285, 286 
Langford, Dr., i. 197 

— Mr., i. 98 

— Mrs., i. 98, 108, 172 
Lascelles, General, ii. 159 
Laverocke, Miss, i. 10, 303, 304 
Lawrence, Mr., ii. 131, 132, 176, 


— Mrs., ii. 131, 132, 176, 199 

— Sir Thomas, i. 116; ii. Ill, 
129-l;i4, 136, 141, 142, 143, 
145, 146, 167, 168, 166-168, 
170, 175, 176, 180, 181, 198- 
200, 204, 252 

I^each, Mr., ii. 276 

I^nnox, Lady Sarah, i. 12, 35 

— Colonel (afterwards Duke of 
Richmond), ii. 99, 100, 102, 
103, 159 

Leoni, i. 137 

Lewis, Lee, i. 125, 126, 190, 250 

Lind, Dr.. ii. 147-149 

— Mrs., ii. 147-149 


Linley, the Misses, i. 94, 109, 

— Mr., i. 188 
Llandaff, Bishop of, ii. 67 
Lockley, Mr., 186, 257, 304 

— Mrs., 186 

London, Bishop of, ii. 84, 186, 

187, 292 
I^ng, Mr., ii. 245, 246 

— Mrs., i. 103 

— Miss Tilney. i. 76 

Louis XVI. (King of France), ii. 

Louisa, Princess, i. 37, 43 
Lowry, Mr.andMrs., i. 317 ; ii. 163 
Lunardi, i. 236 
Lyttleton, the Misses, i. 64 

MACKENTHUM, Mies, i. 305, 
312, 315; ii. 4, 8, 112, 168, 
169, 220, 222, 259, 275 

— Miss Frederica, ii. 258, 269, 

— Mr.,i.312; ii. 48 
Maddison, Mr., i. 281 
MagnoUey, Mr., i. 61, 127, 269, 

297* ii 93 

— Mrs., i." 193, 194, 201 , 225, 249, 

Majendie, Dr., i. 60, 109, 128, 
146, 147, 157, 158 ; ii. 122 

— the Rev. Henry, i. 104, 269 ; 
ii. 152, 223-226, 273, 298 

— Mrs., ii. 224-226 
Mann, Sir Horace, i. 83 
Manners, General, ii. 14, 131 
Mansfield, Lord, i. 120, 125 
Mara, Madame, i. 214^217, 220, 

224, 233, 239, 240, 241, 256, 
273; ii.95, 96,173, 203,264, 

— Monsieur, i. 216, 223, 224 
Marchesi, i. 239 

Maria Theresa, ii. 127 
Marie Antoinette, ii. 127 
Markham, Archbishop of York, 

ii. 57, 84 
Martin, Colonel, ii. 904 
Mary of Cambridge, Princess, ii. 





Mary, Princess, i. 72, 120, 127; 

ii;74, 101, 2l«, 220, 240, 283, 

285, 287 
Mash, Sir Thomas, ii. 33 
Maskelyne, Dr., i. 253 
Massereene, I^rd, ii. 150 
Matilda, Princess, i. 144 
Matthews, Colonel, i. 56 

— Miss, i. 127 

— Mr., ii. 11 
Mattocks, Mr., i. 100 

— Mrs., i. 137, 190 

Mayor, the Ijord, i. 23, 121 : ii. 

87, 88, 292 
Mecklenburgh-Strelitz, Duke of, 

I 2, 161 

— Duchess of, i. 3, 5, 8 

— Prince Chariea of, i. 157 

— Prince Ernest of, i. 6, 41, 42, 
65, 74, 75, 109, 239, 293, 309, 

— Princess Charlotte of, L 2-8, 

Mee, Mrs., ii. 144, 145 

— Arthur, ii. 144 
Meilan, Mr., ii. 42 
Melbourne, Lord, ii 274 
Mexborough, Earl, i. 280 

— Countess of, i. 280, 281 
Meyer, Mr., i. 12, lb*, 145, 146, 

1*56, 208, 210, 285 ; ii. 36, 37, 
40, 43, 52 

— Mrs., i. 145, 208. 210, 213; ii. 
40, 43-46, 52. 53, 77, 78, 98, 

— George, i. 56 ; ii. 37, 45, 46, 
77, 233, 247 

— John, ii. 212-214, 218, 219, 
229, 232, 233, 246-248 

— William, ii. 212, 214, 247 

— Charlotte, ii. 43-45, 77 

— Mary, ii. 43, 44, 45, 77 

~ Caroline, ii. 78, 107, 108, 116, 

212, 227, 228, 255, 256 
Mevrick, Rey. Mr., i. 112 
Middleton, Mr., ii. 245 
Miers, Miss, ii. 236-238 

— Mr., ii. 236 
Miller, i. 316 

— Mr., i. 131 

— Mrs., i. 131 

Mills, Mr., i. 160, 161,257 


Milly, i. 288; ii. 226, 228, 240, 

Mingay, Dr., i. 142, 267, 282, 
808; ii. 35, 61, 52, 118, 123, 
135, 152, 156, 163, 176, 104, 
195, 213, 218, 23.3, 251, 25G, 
257, 261, 262, 272, 288, 289 

— Mrs., ii. 135, 156, 103, 272, 

Minney, ii. 264 
Mirlan, Mr., i. 56 
Mirow, Duke of, i. 8 
Monro, Dr., i. 298 ; ii. 18 
Montagu, Lady Caroline, i. 12 
Montagu, Mr., I 49, 92, 166, 164, 
272; ii. 149, 221, 222 

— Mrs., 49, 64, 60, 166, 164, 182 ; 
u. 126, 222 

Montague, Duke of, L 62, 272; 

ii. 121,211 
Moore, Dr. (am Archbishop of 

More, Hannah, i. 113 

— Mr., 1.318; ii. 36,230 
Mori, senior, ii. 170 

— junior, ii. 170 
Morigi, i. 110, 180 
Mornington, Lord, ii. 221, 222 
Morrice, Mr., ii. 209 
Mott,Dr.,i. 74, 75; ii. 122 
Moula, Miss, i. 127 ; ii. 74 
Mount-Edgcumbe, Earl of, ii. 

Mozart, i. 156, 316, 327; ii. UK), 

210, 236 
Mulgraye, Lord, ii. 58 
Miiller, Monsieur, i. 73, 247 

— Mrs., i. 247 
Munden, i. 250; ii. 173 
Muttlebury, Mrs., i. 67, 68, 69 

NANCY, i. 171 

Naples, King of, ii. 127 

Nash, Mr., i. 29 

Neebour, ii. 135 

Neyin, Miss, i. 62, 74, 127, 241, 

Newton, Dr. (tee Bishop of 

— Mrs., i. 75, 77 
Nicholson, Margaret, i. 260 




Nicolay, Mr., i. 16, 27, 28, 38, 76, 

147 ; ii. 170 
North, Loid, i. 156 ; iL 19 
Northcote, Mr., i. 10 
Northumberland, Dachesa of, L 

24,69,60; ii. 164 
Norwich, Bishop of, ii. 67 
Noverre, Monsieur, i. Ill, 112, 

116 ; ii. 200 
Noveaielaki, ii. 173 

CX^TAVIUS, Prince, i. 270, 271 ; 

ii. 19 
Oliver, Mrs., ii. 206 
Oom, Mr. Adolphus Kent, ii. 

209, 302 

— Mr. Thomas, ii. 301, 302 

— Mrs., ii. 78, 301,302 

— Thomas, iL 302 
Orange, Prince of, ii. 273 
Orvilliers, d'. Admiral, i. 101 
Osborne, Lady Mary, i, 274 

PACHE, DU, Monsieur, i. 267 
Paine, Tom, ii. 291 
Palman, Mr., ii. 163 

— Mrs., i. 186, 193 
Palmer, ii. 12 

— Mrs., i. 190, 250; ii. 173 

— Mr., i. 204, 260 ; ii. 173 
Palsa, Mr., ii. 269, 270, 271 
Papendiek, Mr.,i. 244, 245, 266 

— Mr. Christopher, i. 76, 118, 
J 21, 122, 127, 133, 139-143, 
150, 151, 163, 165, 156, 158, 
162, 166, 167, 16S, 173-187, 
190-193, 195-198, 200, 208, 
219, 220, 222, 224, 226, 227, 
228, 230, 231, 234-240, 244, 
245, 246, 265, 266, 267, 2()0, 
272, 273, 275, 278, 279, 284, 
287-294, 296, 299, 306, a08, 
309, 311, 313, 314, 316, 317, 
326-330 ; ii. 11, 12, 14, 21-23, 
34, 60, 61, 53, 64, 63, 67, 69, 
73, 75, 84, 89, 92, 93, 94, 106, 
110-113, 119, 120, 121, 123, 
125, 127, 130, 135-142, 146- 
148, 155, 158, 160, 162, 108, 
169, 172, 177, 181, 184, 100, 



198, 202, 203, 207, 208, 210, 
214, 216, 218-223, 226, 228, 
231, 236-239, 241-248, 260, 
261, 262, 267, 260, 262-266, 
270-273, 277, 288, 289, 292, 
295, 304, 306 
Papendiek, Mrs. (see also Mifls 
Albert), L 176-187, 189-201, 
204, 206, 207, 208, 210-213, 
220-230, 235-250, 255, 266, 
260, 262, 266, 266, 267, 273- 
276, 279, 280, 283, 284, 287, 

288, 291-296, 299-302, 308, 
809, 310, 314-317, 323-326, 
829, 330, 331 ; ii. 1, 2, 3, 34- 
88, 40, 43, 46, 60, 61, 67-80, 
82, 84, 85, 88, 89, 93, 100, 106, 
106, 109, 110, 111, 116, 118, 
119, 120, 123, 124, 127, 129, 
130, 136-143, 145-148, 163- 
158, 162, 163, 165, 166, 168- 
172, 176, 176, 177, 184, 197- 
200, 203, 206, 207, 209, 210, 
212-216, 218, 221-224, 226- 
233, 240, 242, 243, 244, 247, 
249-258, 260-265, 209-272, 
276, 279-283, 286, 286, 288, 

289, 292-304, 308, 309 

— Frederick (eldest son of the 
above), i. 266, 266, 273; ii. 
2, 34, 79, 118, 119, 123, 140, 
146, 168, 169, 213, 228-231, 
243, 244, 261, 264, 263, 280, 
288, 289, 292, 303 

— George Ernest (second son), 
1.308, 309, 314,315; ii. 2, 34, 
35, 36, 46, 50, 62, 119, 146, 
213, 219, 220, 228, 243, 244, 
251, 254, 263, 289, 293, 303 

— Charles Edward Ernest 
(youngest son), ii. 292, 303 

— Charlotte Augusta (eldest 
daughter), i. 198, 207, 208, 
2^>0, 221, 222, 225, 228, 237, 
238, 240, 24:1, 249, 250, 267, 
273, 274, 280, 289, 296, 302; 
ii. 2, 34, 60, 67, 68, 78, 117, 
130, 161, 161. 197, 202, 206, 
209, 213, 217, 220, 228, 229, 
243, 261, 265, 263, 280, 289, 
293, 301, 303 

— Elizabeth Mary (second daugh« 





t«r), i. 238, 239. 240, 260, 273 ; 
ii. 2, 34, 84, 118, 120, 123, 161, 
161, 197, 202, 206, 209, 213, 
217, 223, 243, 249, 261, 266, 
263, 280, 288, 289, 293, 297, 
Fapendiek, Augusta Amelia Adol- 
phina (youngest daughter), L 
181 ; ii. 803 

— George (brother), i. 166, 168, 
176, 177, 180, 193, 196, 205, 
211, 213, 220, 230, 237, 243, 
267, 264, 266 J u. 167, 168, 
198, 2QQ 

— Charles (second brother), L 
244 ; ii. 198, 200, 210, 228, 
244, 246, 266, 266 

— Christian (third brother), ii. 

Parke, Miss, i. 94 ; ii. 296 
Parsloe, Captain, ii. 108 

— Mrs.,ii.l08 

Parsons, Dr., ii. 166, 190, 272 
Partridge, Mrs., i. 321, 322 
Pascal, Miss, i. 10, 304 

— Mr., u. 274, 276 
Pearce, Bishop, i. 19 
Pearson, Sally, ii. 263, 264 
Pembroke, Lady, ii. 63, 64, 96 
Pepys, Sir Lucas, ii. 7 
Perchierotti, i. 239 

Percy, Lady Elizabeth, i. 69 
Perraux, the Brothers, i. 124 
Petch, Mr., i. 31, 38, 45 

— Mrs., i. 31, 38, 44, 46, 46 

— Augusta, i. 44 
Philippe Egalit^, ii. 262 
Pick, Mr., 1. 816 ; ii. 261, 264 

— Mrs., ii. 260, 261, 264 
Pigot, Miss, i. 167 
Piozzi, Signor, ii. 106, 107 

— Madame, ii. 107 
Piper, L 819 

Pitcher, Sir Abraham, i. 96, 116 

— Lady, i. 96, 116 

— Miss, i. 112, 116 

— Penelope, i. 116 

— PeOT;y,i. 171 

Pitt, Mr. WiUiam,!. 22, 23, 166, 
228, 269 ; ii. 7, 23, 26, 27, 29, 
84, 66, 69, 60, 71, 99, 304 

— Mr., i. 226, 227, 239, 266 

Htt, Mrs., i. 226, 227, 256, 262, 
276, 282, 299 

— Paul Adee, i. 266, 282, 284- 
288, 299; ii. 269 

Planch^, il 191 

Planta, Mr. Joseph, ii. 282, 302 

— Mrs., i. 180 ; ii. 78, 146, 282, 

— Miss, i. 47, 64 ; ii. 302 

—- Miss Margaret, i. 64, 127, 185, 
241, 242, 265, 268, 805, 309, 
811, 316, 329; ii. 3, 4, 6, 8, 
32, 72, 112, 168, 219, 238, 
269, 271, 802 

Pleyell, i. 166, 328 

Pohl, Mr., L 60, 128, 246, 264; 
ii. 154 

— Mrs., i. 60. 51, 60, 69, 128, 129, 
168, 168, 169, 173, 176, 177, 
179, 184, 192, 200, 205, 240, 
247, 264, 291, 294 

— Miss, i. 129, 146 ; ii. 171, 197, 

Poniatowski, King of Poland, ii. 

Poole, Miss, ii. 295 

Porteus, Dr. (tee Bishop of Lon- 

Portland, Duke of, ii. 166, 204 

— Duchess of, ii. 149, 150 
Potemkin, Qeneral, ii. 129 
Pott, Dr., i. 286 
Povoleri, Si^or, i. 56, 79 

— Madame, i. 79 
Powel, Mr., i. 94 

Powell, Mr., i. 73, 127, 196, 267, 

Price, Major, i. 827; ii. 8 
Priestley, Dr., ii. 278 
Pringlej Sir John, i\ 49 
Prussia, King of, i. 216 

— Princess Koyal of, L 132 ; iL 

Pullen, Miss, i. 75, 77, 129, 146 

QUENTIN, (3aptain, i 211, 284 
Quick (comedian), i. 187, 190, 
260; ii. 118,173 

RAMBERG, Mr., i. 300, 301 
Ramsbottom, Mr., ii. 221 




Ranzini, Signor, i. 152, 252, 254 
KawdoD, Lord, ii. 102 
Rebecca, Mr., li. 233, 234, 235 
Beynolds, Dr., ii. 7 

— Sir Joshua, i. 10, 114, 115, 
278 ; iL 44, 166, 167, 252 

Rich, Sir Charles, ii. 279 

Richmond, Dowager Duchess of, 

Roach, Mrs., L 300, 302, 316 ; ii. 
2, 35, 78, 79, 107, 108, 116, 
137, 140, 154, 158, 197, 212, 
213, 243, 251, 255, 256, 260, 
276, 280. 289, 293 

Roberts, Mr., i. 64, 105, 157 

— Richard, i. 317 

— WilUam, i. 317 
Robinson, Mrs., L 159 
Rodgers, i. 279, 289, 810, 316; 

ii. 38, 78, 81, 84, 110, 118, 139, 

145, 213, 214, 243 
—junior, i. 279, 280, 827 ; ii. 189, 

140, 272, 273 
Rodney, Admiral, i. 155, 165 
Rooke, General, ii. 190 
Rose, Mr. il 112 
Rothschild, Baron, i. 268 
Round, Mr., ii. 262 
Routledge Mrs., ii. 225 

— the Misses, ii. 225, 226 
Rudd, Mrs., i. 124, 125 
Russell, Lady Caroline, i 12 
Ryder, Mr., ii. 209 

SAINSBURY, Mr., L 98, 100, 108 

— Mrs., i. 107 

— Miss, i. 56, 98 

Sale, L 310; ii. 139, 166 
Salisbury, Bishop of, ii. 262 
Salmon, i. 310 ; li. 139, 156 
Salomon, i. 156, 185-187, 192, 
203, 207, 214, 215, 220, 231, 
234, 235, 288, 289, 292, 309, 
816, 330; ii 70, 72, 170, 179, 
184, 210, 253, 271, 289, 290, 
Sandwich, Earl of, ii. 19 
Sandys, Miss, i. 305, 312, 315 ; ii. 
Scarlatti, i. 316 


Schmidt, Mr., i. 244 
Schnell, Mrs., i. 53 
Schrader, Mr., i. 199, 200 
Schroeder, i. 104, 134, 136, 143, 

151, 156, 187, 192, 203, 279 ; ii. 

Schwellenberg, Madame, i. 6, 13- 

17,19,26,86, 147.304; ii. 3, 

6, 13, 32, 87, 53, 193, 268, 269 
Schwestre, 1231,235 
Seeker, Dr. (jue Archbishop of 


— Mr., ii. 262 

Sexton, Mr., i. 308; ii. 96, 110 
Sheldon, Mr., ii. 252 
Shepherd, Dr., L 330 
Sheridan, Mr.Brinsley, 1.109, 137, 
188,205,259,297; ii. 86 

— Mrs., i. 207, 214 
Sherville, Mrs. Markham, ii. 149 
Shrubsole, Mr., i. 122 
Siddons, Mrs., i. 203-207, 232, 

249, 250; ii. 113, 114, 133, 172, 
173, 179-182, 287 

— Maria, iL 133, 180, 181 

— Mr., u. 180-182 
Silvester, Mr., ii. 274, 275 
Simonet, i. 110, 136, 189 
Simpson, Mr., iL 272 
Smith, i. 250 

— ii. 106 

— Mr., iL 287 

— Mr. Theodore, ii. 2, 117, 220 
Snoswell, Betty, L26; ii. 28,54, 77 
Soane, Mr., ii. 144 
Solander,Dr.,iL 148 

Sonardi, L 306 ; ii. 5, 111, 142 

Sontague, Mr., i. 257 

Sophia, Princess, i. 127, 270 ; ii, 

10, 74, 161, 216, 220,240, 283, 

Sorel, Miss, i. 73 
Spencer, Loid, ii. 7 

— Mrs., ii. 36, 50, 51 
Stafford, Marquis of, i. 255 
Stanhope, Mr., L 80 
Stanley, Lord, L 150 

— Mr.,L94 
Starkey, Mrs., ii. 48 
Steibelt, i. 155 

Stillingfleet, Mr., L 121 ; iL 91, 261 




Stillingfleet, Mr. (jun.), ii. 11, 91, 

92, 121, 196 
Stone, Miae, i. 287 
Storace, Madame, ii. 17S, 208, 

Stowe, Mra., i. 809, 315-318, 827, 

829; ii. 36, 81, 96, 136, 138, 

146, 163, 169, 200, 207, 209 

— Mi»8, L 809, 316-318,326-^30 ; 
ii. 110, 135, 168, 169, 189, 200, 

— MiM laabelU, i. 309, 316-318, 
826-32«; u. 135, 168, 200, 

Street, Mr., ii. 84-89 
StroDg, Miss., i. 293; iL 58 
Stuart, Mrs., i. 5 
Such, I 187, 203 
Sukey, i. 166 ; ii. 101 
Sussex, Duke of, i. 78, 103 
Sydney, Lady, ii. 279 
Sykes, Mr., ii. 108 

TALBOT, Lord, i. 92 
Tasca, Mr., ii. 96, 295 
Taylor, Sir Herbert, ii. 274, 276 
Teck, Duchess of, ii. 308 
Temple, Ijord, i. 23 
Tenducci, i. 110, 137, 189 
Thackaray, Dr., ii. 148, 161, 162 

— Mrs., ii. 161-163, 223, 226, 

Theilcke, Mr., i. 304 

— i. 292 ; ii. 171 

— Mrs., i. 304. 306; ii. 6, 274 
Theodore, i. 110, 136 
Thomas, Mr., i. 308 

Thrale, Mr., i. 06, 101, 112-114, 
171 ; ii. 106 

— Mrs., i. 95,101, 112, 118, 114, 
171 -, ii. 106, 107 

Thurlow, Lord, ii. 7, 26, 27, 55, 

61, 66, 67, 101 . 
Thurschmid, ii. 269-271 
Tickell, Mr., i. 188 
Tilderley, Mr., i. 92 ; ii. 276 

— Miss, ii. 276 
Townshend, Lady, i. 24 

— Hon. Miss, ii. 279 
Tracey, Mrs., L 5 

Trimmer, Mrs., i. 47, 64, 105,156, 
262; ii. 223, 224, 230 


Trimmer, Miss, L 105 

— Sarah, i. 105 

TunstaU, Mrs., L 25, 26, 38, 47, 
48, 129, 146, 166, 187; iL 8/ 
26, 28, 82, 53, 73, 98 

— Sally, 4^, 90, 91 ; ii. 73 

— Robert, i. 131, 187 
Turner, Miss, L 806 ; ii. 220 
Tumour, Lord, L 112 
Turton, Dr., i. 71 

UNGERLAND, Mr.,i. 176, 198, 

VALLETORT, Loid, ii, 208 
Yaughan, Mr., i. 96 

— Mrs., i. 96, 97 

— Miss, i. 96,97 

— Rebecca and Josepha, i. 97 
Yerac, Mademoiselle von, ii. 274, 

Yemon, i. 121 
Yestris (senior), i. 110, 189; u. 286 

— (junior), i. 110, 180; iL 286 

— Madame, ii. 294 
Yigononi, 110, 189 
YilleneuTe, Monsieur, i. 54, 71| 

111, 228, 
Yiotti, ii. 134, 179 

W ADSWORTH, Mrs., L 54, 236, 
208 ; iL 170 

— Miss, L 54, 60, 198, 230 
Waldegrave, Lord, L 02 

— Ladv Elizabeth, L 273, 806, 

— Lady Caroline, i. 273 

— Miss, i, 806 

Wales, Prince of, i. 27, 61, 78, 91, 
94, 131, 132, 133, 136, 188, 
143, 144, 168, 169, 160, 179, 

195, 199, 200, 202, 212. 216, 
216, 219, 229, 230, 232, 234, 
286, 246, 256-260, 263, 268, 
273, 278, 808, 813; ii. 15, 16, 
19, 26, 32, 33, 66, 56, 67, 69, 60, 
61, 66, 66, 90, 100, 103, 155, 
159, 177, 178, 179, 188, 194^ 

196, 252, 273, 284, 304, 307 

— Princess of. iL 169, 803 

— Princess Dowager of, L 10, 18, 
21, 33-37, 43-44, 804 




Wales, PrincesB Charlotte of, i. 

74, 76, 106, 162 ; ii. 123, 304, 

•Wallace, Mr., i. 66,111 

— Mr. (junior), i. 66 
Walpole, Horace, i. 9, 11, 203 ; ii. 

180, 277 
Walsingham, Lord, i. 92; ii. 121 
Waid, Mr., ii. 243, 244, 280, 289 
Warren, i. 62 

— Dr.,ii. 7,22 
Watkins,Mr8.,i. 281 
Wataon, Mrs., ii. 172 
Watts, i. 187 
Webb,Mr.,i. 307, 308 
Webb (grocer), ii. 242 
Weichsel, Mrs., i. 121, 233 
WeUesley, Marquis of, ii. 222 
Wells, Mis., u. lis 
Weltze, i. 267 

WendUng, i. 76,231 ; ii.239 
West, Oolonel, L 62 

— Mr., i. 232, 278; ii. 39, 97, 
134, 146, 161, 167, 166, 170, 

— Ralph, i. 278, 279; il 145, 

Weybrowe, Mr., i. 27 
Whitbread, Mr.,i.297 
White, Mr., i. 27, 72, 127 

— Mrs., i. 72,73 

— Miss, i. 287 ; iL 129, 147, 148 
Whitelock, Mr. and Mn., L 96 

— Miss, i. 112 

Wiedemann, i. 76, 199 ; ii. 190 
WiUes, Miss, i. 306; ii 220 
William, Prince {see Duke of 

William Henry, Prince (see Duke 

of Clarence) 
Williams, Mrs., i. 130, 221 
Willis, Dr., ii. 10, 22-26, 28-31, 

64, 62-66, 72, 76, 83, 89, 90, 

91, 97, 188 

— Mr. John, ii. 22 

— Dr. Thomas, ii. 22, 26, 63 

— Mrs. Thomas, ii. 63, 64, 73, 


Wilmott, Dr., L 238, 266 
Wilson, i. 137, 190 
Winchelsea, Earl of, ii. 102 
Winkelmann, Miss, ii. 267, 268, 

Wolfe, Sir Jacob, i. 138 

— Baron, L 138 

— Miss, iL 210 
Wombwell, Sir George, i. 324 
Worcester, Bishop of, i. 48, 310, 

311-^13 ; ii. 16, 187 
Wrey, Sir CecU, i. 209, 210 
Wroughton, i. 190 
Wiirtemberg, Prince Ferdinand 

of, ii. 208 

— Prince of, ii. 304 

Wyatt, Mr. James, ii. 277, 278 
Wykeham, Mr., ii. 204 

YATES, u. 293 

— Mrs., i. 189, 204, 206 
York, Duke of, i. 11, 36 

— Frederick, Duke of, i. 31, 61, 
94, 131, 132,232, 268; ii. 9, 
67, 69, 66, 99, 102, 103, 166, 
196, 196, 273-276, 284, 287, 

— Duchess of, u. 273-276, 28i^- 
286, 287 

— Archbishop of, ii. 67, 84 
Young, Miss, 1. 190, 206, 260 ; ii. 

Younge, Sir William, i. 309 

ZOFFANY, Mr., i. 82-89, 109, 
136,138, 147, 160, 161, 1 66, 173, 
182, 184, 281 ;ii. 117, 137-141, 
176, 198-200, 204, 206, 207, 

— Mrs., i. 86-89, 109, 136, 184, 
266,281,302,306,316; ii67- 
69, 76, 76, 116, 176, 206 

— Theresa, i. 184, 302, 316; ii. 
36, 116, 140 

— CecUia,!. 184, 302, 316 ; ii. 86, 
116, 140, 204, 206, 206 

S. &H. 

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* Who win gfttnny that Walpole is an EngUih Classic ? With the exception of Jamee "EawtHl 1m 
WM, in point of time, the flnt of Bogllflh lettor-writerB. That he ie first in literal? rank tba 
niajoiitj of readers will resdilj admit. With fancy and imagination enoagh for a poet, lesmiag 
snfflcient to hare eetabUshed his reputation as a scholar* wit equal to both, and a social poaitJoa 
which pat him in possession of all the gossip of the day, what wonder is it that Honoe Walpola 
shonld shine pre-eminent as a letter-writer? His style, modelled upon thoee sparklinir FVeDch 
xrriters whom ho so delighted in, is perfect in its ease ; and his pictnres of society oomtiine at oooe 
the truth of Hogarth and the grace or Watteau. In his deUghtfal oorrespondoioe one maj read 
the political and social history of England from the middle of the reign of George the Second to the 
hrealdng out of the flnt French Berolotion. This edition contains not only all the Letters hitherto 
pabllshed, arranged in chronological order, and many now first collected or flnt made pubUc. bat 
also the notes of all the iirevioua editors, among whom are Lord DoTer, Mr.Oroker, tbs lOsaas Berry, 
and the Rst. John Mitford.^NoTD and Qusrid. 

' His inoompaxable letters.*— Lord Btbon, Preface to * ICarino FUiero.' 

* The best letter-writer in the English langoage/— Sir Waltkb Soott, * Life of Hotvoe Walpote.* 

'Read, if yon have not read, all Horace WalpoIe*8 Letters whererer yon can flnd them. The 
best wit ever published in the shape of Letters.'— Bey. Btdnbt Smith, Letter No. 186. 

*I refrain to qaote from Walpole, for those charming Tolnmes are in the hands of all who lore 
the gossip of the last century. Nothing can be more cheery than Horace's Letters ; fiddles sini; all 
through them ; wax lighu, fine dresses, fine jokes, fine plates, flne equipages glitter and sparkle ; 
there nerer was suoh a brilliant jigging, smirking Vanity Fair as that through which he leads os.* 

Thacksrat. 'George the Seoood.' 

* Walpole's epistolary talents have shown our language to be capable of all the graces and of all 
ttas charms of the French of Madame de Seyigne.'— Miss Bbrbt. ^/Q 

* Of letter-writers by profession we hare indeed few, although Horace WalpolC hMht, fresh, 
quaint, and glittering as one of his most precious flguras of Dresden china, is a ho« inJnmaelf.* 

• Miss HiTFOBD, * BecoUecdons of a library Life.' 

* What, then, is the chsrm. the Irresistible charm, of Walpole's writings? It consist*, we think, 
in the art of amusing wicboat exciting. He rejects all but the attractlTe parts of his subjects ; bs 
k-eps only what is in itself amusing, or what can be made so by the artifice of his diction. He eets 
o>it an entertainment worthy of a Roman epicure— an entertainment consist] ng of nothing bat 
delicacies ; the brains of singing birds, the roe of mullets, the snnnv halres of peaches. We own 
tiiet we espcct to see frdh Humes and fresh Burkes before we again fall in with that peculiar com« 
biiiation of moral and intellectual qualities to which the writings of Walpole owe their extraordinary 
iwpularity.'— Lo-d Macaulat, Edinburgh RfHew, 

' Horace Walpole will be long known to posterity by his Incomparable letters— models as they 
sro of every variety of epii^tolary excellence. Bat it is not only for the merits of his style that 
Walpole's Letters are, we think, destined more surely perhaps than any other work of his or our a^ie 
to immortality. This correspondence is, in fact, a perfect encyclopiedla of information f^m the 
Tcrv b«8t sources— politics from the fountain-head of parties, debates by the bestof reports*. forH<m 
afl'airsfroman hnbitui uf diplomatic society, sketches of public characters by their intimate acqnaint- 
ani'e or associate, the gossip of fashionable life from a man of fashion, literature from a man of 
letters, the arts from a man of taste, the news of the town from a member of every club in St. James's 
Street ; and all this related by a pen whose vivacity and graphic power is equalled by nothing but 
the wonderful Industry and perseverance with which it was plied through so long a series of years. 

* Horace Walpole may decidedly daim pre-eminence for ease and liveliness of expression, tersenvs 
of remark, and felicity of narration above almost all the epistolary writers of Britain. His remini> 
scenc:e8 of the reigns of George I. and II. make us better acqoainted with the manners of those 
Princes and their Courts than we should be after perusing a hundred heavy historians ; and futurity 
will long be indebted to the chance which threw into his vicinity, when age rendered him communi- 
cative, the aooomplished ladies to whom these anecdotes were communicated. The letters of Horace 
Walpole are indeed masterpieces in their way ; they are the entertaining and lively register of the 
gay and witty who have long fiuttered and fiirted over the fashionable stage till pushed off by a new 
race of pfrtijleurt. Their variety, as well as their peculiar and lively diction, renders them very 
entertaining. We shall look in vain to history for i$uch traits of character as those which Horace 
Walpole records of stout old Balmerino when under sentence of death. We quote from Mr. Bentler's 
general edition of Walpole's Letters : a collection into one view and regular order of that vast corre- 
spondence which, besides its unrivalled beauty and brilliancy, has the more important merit of being 
the liveliest picture of manners, and the be<t epitome of political history, that not only this but any 
other country poseesses.'— John Wilrox Ciw)kkr, Quarterly lUvieu. 

London: RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, New Burlington Street.